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VALERIA AND OTHER POEMS 




:b;xi6(kx^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 



BY HARRIET MONROE 




CHICAGO 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 

1891 




V. 



\ 



76 2.4a a. 

.V 3' 



Copyright, 1891, by Harriet Monroe 
A II rights reserved. 



THE CONTENTS. 

VALERIA, A TRAGEDY. 

PAGE. 

Prologue 3 

Act I. 19 

Act II 55 

Act III 91 

Act IV 129 

Act V I 59 

POEMS. I. 

Niagara's Song 197 

Origin of the Tides 203 

Song of the Air 204 

In the Beginning 207 

A Wreck 208 

A Rondeau 209 



11. 



Cantata — Sung at the dedication of the 
Chicago Auditorium, December 9, 1889 213 



III. 

PAGE. 

Our Lady of Art 223 

From the Dark 227 

Shadows 231 

The Land of Love 232 

With Folded Wings 234 

A Pastel 236 



IV. 



Dancing Song 239 

Marriage Song 241 

Slumber Song 243 

Love Song 244 

To A Child 246 

Love's Power 247 

Au Revoir 249 

Hope 250 

Unfulfilled 251 

Proh Pudor ! 253 

For a Friend — who sent roses on St. Valentine's Day 255 

To Robert Louis Stevenson 256 

Outward Bound 257 

To Hester 258 

Epitaph on a Dog 259 

A Question 260 

A Sketch 261 

XX 



PAGE. 

A Daughter of the Dakotas 263 

By the Dragon River 267 

A Hymn 269 



SONNETS. 

To My Leader 273 

To A Class-mate 274 

Time's Perversity 275 

On Reading a Modern Romance . . 276 

* ' The Monarch. " A portrait of a lion, by Rosa Bonheur, 

now in the Vanderbilt collection 277 

An Invocation to Health. For one seeking her in the 

Adirondacks 278 

To Mrs. Yale 279 

To My Sister. From over the Sea 280 

Red Clover 281 

To A Beautiful Lady 282 

To W. S. M. With a copy of Shelley .... 283 

By Lake Michigan 284 



EN VOL 

On Reading Longfellow's Lines "The Arrow 

and the Song" 287 



Persons of the Prologue, 

PRINCE ANDREA. 

FLORIMOND, Count of Vancua, friend to the Prince. 

Guardsmen. 
VALERIA, a traveling child-minstrel and raconteur. 



The action of the Prologue and of the Plaj> takes 
place in one of the petty states of Italy during the 
fourteenth century. 



PROLOGUE. 



Scene.— A roadside. In the distance a palace. Enter the child- 
minstrel Valeria, ragged and weary, and bearing a lute. 



Valeria. 
How tired the day is, and my head is hot — 
So hot perchance the sun has sent his beams 
To rest upon it. All the birds have flown. 
Give me your wings, my music-makers — wings! 
And 1 will seek you where the perfumes grow, 
In the king's garden yonder. I will see 
The great white towers you wheel about, and hear 
The voice of princes and of white-skinned maids. 
Are you not happy when you die, my birds — 
You who have seen such glory? I believe 
I could be joyous all my life if once 
Some youth, all gold and velvet and perfume, 
Like him who far away in yesterday 
Reined in his steed to listen to my song — 
If some such lord should take me by the hand 
3 



And say : I will not give thee coins for song — 

Sing me a ballad for an hour of joy ; 

One song, and for an hour thou shalt command, 

And all the glories of thy dreams are thine ! 

Then would I shout and bid my laughing soul 

Change to a princess for a lily's year ; 

And I would cry, My robes, my jewels, ho ! 

Summon my slaves and bid them bear me on 

Through gardens richer than a rose's heart, 

Through halls where bright deeds, deeply set in gold, 

Shine from the walls like jewels, and great kings 

Stand forth in marble and at last are still. 

Oh, I would crowd such years into that hour 

That all my life would be but memory 

And all my songs an echo ! 

[She sings.] 
Have you heard of the princess who far away 

In a tower by the moaning sea 
For her lover kept watch, till she heard one say 

That a perjured soul had he ? 
For the troth she had plighted for aye, for aye, 

Was a jest to his spirit free. 

One flash from her eyes, and she turned their light 

On the storm-bound sea and sky — 
One moment, and swift through the pitiless night 

A shadowy shape sped by. 
And no sound was heard, through the storm's affright. 

Of a human soul's last cry. 

4 



It is strange 
The high-born princess could not find delight, 
Whom all obeyed save one. Ah ! would to Heaven 
That I might wear her robes and coronet, 
And have a troop of courtiers at my beck ! 
1 would be happy as the bird that flies 
Nearest the sun, content to fly alone. 
No man of all their tribe should e'er disturb 
My high serenity. 

[The girl wanders out. Enter the Prince and Florimond, gay 
youths laughing together.] 

The Prince. 
But, Florimond, 
While there are horses in my father's realm 
I cannot think of women. 

Florimond. 

Say you so ! 
Your highness then shall give me all the maids 
And I will get you steeds from Barbary. 

The Prince. 
These ladies of the court, my Florimond, 
Think you a man may find one maid of all 
Whose whole life owns as much of nature's law 
As yonder thrush's song? Oh, I am tired 
Of the bowed heads and bending knees of women 



Who spy the prince afar, but have no eyes 

Save for his trappings ! If I could but find 

One face unconscious as the new-born day, 

With eyes that to our noon in midnight bring 

Sv/ift visions of the morn, whose glances rise 

Fearless as sunlight to encounter darkness, 

A voice that blows like spring's fresh breezes through 

Our hot-house bloom of courts, a step as free 

As the wild mountain goat's, a heart untaught 

And so untainted — find me such a maid 

And she shall wear a crown ! Yea, though her brow 

Knows not the touch of gold, save when the sun 

Beats amorous kisses on it. 

Florimond. 

But, my lord. 
You do them wrong, the ladies of the court. 
To hold them slaves to ceremony. Think 
If you exact it not. You wear your rank 
Even as the porcupine his spears, that wound 
The unwary handler. Fold it by awhile, 
This proud reserve and ill-advised scorn. 
And search some lady's eyes for gentle proof 
Of nature's rule in her. Trust me, your highness 
Will fathom secret depths untroubled by 
Windy frivolities of etiquette. 
But when you find that peerless maid, my lord. 
Untaught, untainted, free — you know the rest — 



Methinks I would not crown her, lest perchance 
Her wild charms stifle in our fevered air. 
It is enough to give such lowly grace 
The left hand of your favor, for the state 
Claims the bestowal of your right, and asks 
No queen so savage. 

The Prince. 

By this sword I swear 
The state that owns me for its king will take 
The queen I give it, though her voice be tuned 
Unto a beggar's whine, and though her robes 
Be ragged as the tatters of old Time. 
And you may tell the councilors of state 
No woman whom I love shall be deceived 
With that base homage which the rotting time 
Pays to king's mistresses. 1 do not wish 
To join ihe crowd of noble dissolutes 
Who sicken states with rank airs of dishonor. 
Till strength and glory fall to leprosy 
And ruin undermines the very throne. 
My country has my service ; to her cause 
I dedicate my hands, my brain, my life. 
I serve her so devoutly it were treason 
To give my heart to any save her queen. 

Florimond. 
'T is well for kings all patriots think not so. 

7 



The Prince. 
Youv honor's gone a-jesting. 

Florimond. 

Nay, I applaud 
Your ardor in preparing bandages 
To bind the wounds of Time, and make him whole. 
His is a scarred old visage ; nevermore 
The eyes of youth will open on the world, 
All innocence and wonder. Since our age 
A sour and wrinkled tyrant is, 'twere wise 
To wear his colors, and not flaunt abroad 
The flaring virtue of your youth. 

The Prince. 

My friend, 
Ah ! be not thus the spokesman of the time, 
And voice the message that the very air 
Is heavy with. Truth has been drugged so long 
She hangs her head in shame, and men forget 
The glory in her eyes. But some there are 
Who search them still, and the white-souled old priest 
Who taught me long ago was one of these. 
He tore away the veil of sophistries 
And gave me one deep look into her soul, 
And I can not forget. Ah ! Florimond, 
She yet will conquer ! In a fight with her 
Our age would infamously perish. Come: 



Shall we not greet her in all friendship, ere 
She falls upon her foes? 

Florimond. 

A miracle ! 
A prince in love with truth ! A despol's son 
Hoping to rule by righteousness! My lord, 
May hosts of angels aid you, for I fear 
Earth's soldiers will not ! 

The Prince. 

'T is a merry tune — 
This song of yours ! 

Florimond. 

But I will give you time. 
A few years near the throne will wear away 
The antique wisdom of the priest — 

The Prince. 

No more ! 
A pestilence is sweeter than your tongue ! 
I have no taste for rankness, so will leave you 
To your amusing thoughts. 

Florimond. 

I have presumed. 
Friends must be frank, my lord. 
9 



The Prince. 

If you are frank, 
Heaven mend your soul and guard your loyalty ! 

[Exit the Prince.] 

Florimond. 
So fierce — so fierce ! I 'd rather be a child 
Than own a spirit rigid as a post, 
And pointing one way always. Faugh ! he lies 
Secure within my hand. Good saints in Heaven ! 
'T is the same Psyche in the beggar's robe. 
Now for an ambush. So. 

[Valeria reappears.] 

Valeria. 

Alas ! alas ! 
Why must 1 dream of kings and palaces, 
And wear these rags, sleep 'neath the staring stars, 
And learn new songs forever till I die ! 
Oh, 1 must think no more. A song! a song ! 
Best dance and sing, and so wear out the day. 

[She sings and dances wildly.] 
Dance on, children of song, over the hills with me; 
Haste down, out of the clouds, down to the sunlit sea. 
Wild winds sweep us afar out of the heights they sway. 
Ah, come ! breathe of the south, buried in blue— away ! 

Come, win kingdoms of light ; crown ye with summer's 
praise. 

Sing ! dance ! tune me your lutes, wreathe them with death- 
less bays. 

zo 



Are ye beggars that rove, heirs of the proud world's scorn ? 
Nay, kings ! dowered with wealth richer than gold of morn, 

[Reenter the Prince, who listens unnoticed.] 

On, on ! Ours is the truth ; deep in her heart we read. 

We give glory to fame, life to the mighty deed. 

Gods we — conquering death, wreathing his brow with 

flowers. 
Give earth all to her slaves — heaven and time are ours! 

Then dance — far and away — 

[She reels, overpowered by the heat.] 

Where is the song gone? Oh, my heart! my heart! 
God! is this death ? 

[She falls fainting. The Prince hastens to her and raises her head on 
his knee. Florimond approaches. ] 



The Prince. 
Some water, Florimond! 

Florimond. 
Here 's wine, my lord. 

[The Prince forces wine into her mouth, but she does not revive. 
He then blows a signal on his bugle twice, which is repeated from 
the palace far away. ] 

The Prince. 

She is more beautiful 
Than is the face of glory to the brave. 



Florimond. 
More fair than death. 

The Prince. 

Be still — she is not dead ! 
No Spartan girl could sing her soul to sleep 
With words so like life's song of triumph. Look! 
See you the horsemen ? 

Florimond. 

Down the road I see 
Their plumes lie prone upon the wind for speed. 

The Prince. 
Her voice was like the dawn across a sea, 
Making the old world quiver with new light. 
God! thou wilt not eclipse it! 

Florimond. 

The sun was jealous, 
Viewing in her a rival luminary 
Which he must conquer ere the world be shaken 
From its proud balance. Will you dare undo 
His scorching work, unveil those dangerous eyes, 
So harmless now ? 

The Prince. 
Have we another Helen 
In this poor child, and would you let her die 



I 
That the brown world may hold its smooth career ? 
Nay, nay — not all of us together reach 
The value of such beauty. Ah ! they come ! 

[Enter, on a gallop, six or eight guardsmen with an officer, who 
swiftly dismounts and salutes.] 

Back, half of you, and from the palace hither 
Bring food, wine, water, leeches, and a litter. 
Haste, as you love me ! You who stay, approach. 
And make your arms a couch. We '11 follow them 
Far as the spring and dew these secret eyes. 
Lightly as a young lily rises up 
From the dull blackness of ancestral earth 
Does she escape her fate in these our arms. 

Florimond. 
To be the fire-brand in fate's hand, perchance. 

The Prince. 
Ay, or the torch, to scatter healing light 
Among the foul illusions of our time. 

[Exeunt omnes.] 

[Curtain.] 



13 



Persons of the Play, 

THE KING. 

PRINCE ANDREA, son to the King. 

FLORIMOND, Count of Vancua, friend to the Prince. 

COUNT LEONE, friend to the Prince. 

AGNOLO, a courtier. 

FILIPPO, a courtier. 

CARDINAL ORTUS. 

CAPTAIN of the King's Guard. 

Courtiers, Guardsmen, Soldiers, Citizens. 

LIPERATA, sister to the King. 

TORA, her daughter. 

PIERA, friend to Tora. 

OLIVIA. 

VALERIA, musician and raconteur in the King's court. 

Ladies of the Court, Women of the People, 
AND Dancing Girls. 



Fwe years elapse between the Prologue and the opening 
of the Play, 



ACT I 



Scene. — The garden of a palace at night. Lights hang in the trees, 
and beautiful statues, fountains, and flowers are visible. Enter 
the old and gray Cardinal Ortus with Florimond, who carries 
negUgently a mask and domino. 



Florimond. 
And so you think the honor of our house 
Sleeps in my charge. 



Cardinal. 

Say rather dies, my lord. 
1 have been silent till each drop of blood 
Your father lost seems like a ghost in arms, 
And all rise to reproach me. 1 have watched 
While you bedraped that princeling like his cloak, 
Breathing his sighs, urging your willing wit 
To whet his laughter, and have said no word 
Because I thought no scion of your race 
Could live long in dishonor. But it seems 
Red blood is water in your veins. You owe 
No fealty to the dead. You have forgot 
This king is but a tyrant, who betrayed 
19 



Freedom, and killed your father like a dog. 
What other state in Italy would thus 
Endure him ? Who, the head of a great house, 
Would let his father's blood rot unavenged, 
And revel with his foes? ' 

Florimond. 

Where is the proof 
Of such grave charges ? 

Cardinal. 

Proof! That rriask and gown 
Are proof enough. You are a courtier here. 
You let them drag you from his very bier 
To fix you in the palace, load your back 
With precious favors— take you to their hearts, 
And so efface the stain, the memory 
Of that great wrong. By heaven ! 't were nobler far 
To seek an exile in the desert plains 
Of Africa, than here to live enriched 
And be their friend. 

Florimond. 
You are too hot, my lord. 
What if 1 too remember, seem their friend 
But for an end? 

Cardinal. 
1 tried to hope so once ; 
But years have stretched my hope out to a hair. 
And now even that has snapped. 



Florimond, 

What is the cause? 

Cardinal. 
Love is the cause. You love Valeria — 
A beggar whom this prince plucked from the highway 
To be his plaything. 

Florimond. 

And if I do, again 
What is the cause ? 

Cardinal. 
She is adroit, ambitious. 
You are oblivious, and to gain your end 
Would give o'er all, and marry her, and live 
In slothful servitude forever. 

Florimond. 

Ho! 
You need not fear. The house of Vancua 
Will never stoop so low. Ah, you are blind! 
Think you, if love were all of life to me 
The rattling tongues of gossips would be weary 
With jesting on my passion? Be assured 
I can be secret when I choose. The fools — 
They must have food for chatter — should I starve 
Their eager appetites they might assail 
The stronghold of our secrets. 'T is for this 



I stuff them with a show of burning love 
For the king's minstrel ; feeling, I confess. 
Tender enough to make the semblance sweet. 
No more of that! By heaven ! your bitter words 
Would anger me, were I not overjoyed 
To find you still so ardent. 

Cardinal, 

You have had 
No cause to doubt my ardor. In this court 
I hold no office, take no gold of theirs, 
Give them no bows, no laughter. 

Florimond, 

By my sword, 
Think you I am a baby to be whipped? 
What if I tell you that the lagging years, 
By you passed in lamenting, have by me 
Been consecrated to our sacred cause ! 
No word that I have uttered — ay, no jest 
That I have shot into the frivolous ears 
Of the young prince, but has availed me much 
In power. Where would our vengeance sleep to-day 
If I had worn my hatred as a cloak 
To keep me warm in exile ? Like a cedar 
Firm-rooted and strong-hearted would arise 
The green strength of their rule, secure against 
The black looks of unweaponed enemies. 



I tell you, sir, this growth which seems so fair, 
This kingdom that now shakes its leaves aloft 
In the clear air of nations, in whose shade 
The earth smiles with new fruitfulness, — I say 
'T is hollow with disease. One blow from me 
And it will fall. 

Cardinal. 
Is not the moment ripe 
For such a blow ? Why will you idly see 
Their throne cemented by these victories? 
To-morrow brings the prince in triumph home. 
Lauded and garlanded. Your brow is bare, 
Though well the soldier's laurel would become 
Such liberal youth. 

Florimond. 
Where are your thoughts, my lord ? 
I will not fight their battles, and besides. 
This king, who thinks he has lulled my soul asleep, 
Were but a fool to send it to the wars 
And bid it waken in the clash of arms. 
Ah, no! he loves me with such constancy 
I must be always near him, though the fight 
Should fail for lack of me. The old basilisk 
Would charm me by his glance. He fears my wings 
If once I try them. He does not suspect, 
Nor you, how free I am, how strong I shall be. 
I can be patient. While he wastes his power 
23 



In irritating wars, paying for glory 

The people's loyalty, I stand aloof 

And urge the impatient crowd to secret hate, 

Waiting the hour when I may lead them on 

To revolution. 

Cardinal. 
You are working, then ? 

Florimond. 
I have not lost an hour since you and 1 
Received my father's heritage of wrong. 
This very night I might escape the palace — 
I have a friend among the sentinels — 
And hasten to our friends, who often meet 
To hear my secret words of hope and wrath. 
Say — have you done so much? 

Cardinal. 

Alas, my son, 
Forgive me if 1 saw no other course 
Save exile for my honor. I 've no skill 
To play a double part. I should betray 
The hatred in my heart and lose us all. 
You know not how reluctantly I wear 
Even for a day the mask of friendship here. 
They told me you were sunk in lethargy, 
Dead to your honor. 1 had watched in vain 
For any sign of life from you, and so 
24 



I came to tell you who you are. But now 
I know that you remember, and my soul 
Which stifles here will seek its liberty. 
To-morrow I depart. 

Florimond. 

Can you not gain 
His Holiness to aid our cause ? 

Cardinal. 

The pope? 
I bear congratulations to the king 
From him. His thoughts are centered nearer home — 
He would not listen. 

Florimond. 

If you only knew 
How cruel is this secrecy, how blindly 
Dense clouds of doubt envelop me, which seem 
To cover an abyss where I must fall ! 
I hold the reins o'er many foaming steeds 
That dash along a precipice. My hands 
Grow weary of the strain ; yet if they tremble 
Our hope is ruin. Lend me your arms awhile, 
And we will hatch a plan shall make them dance — 
These sanguine fools! 

Cardinal. 

What would you have me do? 

25 



Florimond. 
I would present you to our friends, and say: 
Three thousand men-at-arms in his domain 
Ignobly toil, who wait our call alone 
To march to our deliverance. Bid them come ! 
Be brave for freedom, rouse your laggard wrath. 
Strike the usurper! Sir, I never dreamed 
Of liberty if that were not enough 
To arm her for the battle. 

Cardinal. 

All I have 
Is yours for this good cause — five thousand men 
Instead of three. My treasure all is yours, 
My voice as well, though little skill is mine 
To move the vulgar to my purposes. 
Do with me as you will. 

[Laughing voices are heard approaching. Cardinal Ortus and 
Florimond retire a little, Florimond covering himself with his 
domino. Enter, gaily talking, a troop of masked revelers — 
Piera, Tora, Valeria, Filippo, and others.] 

Pier a. 

He slipped us here. 

Florimond, 
They must not find my father's friend and me 
So close in talk. The king has jealous eyes 
Under his brow of clemency. 



Valeria. 

Forbear ! 
He is the son of darkness— he is gone 
To join his father Night. We '11 search no more ! 

Filippo. 
His father Night is here, yet he is not. 

Piera. 
Night has devoured his offspring then ; I know 
He fled to it. 

Valeria. 
O parent pitiless ! 
Was that thy greeting ? 

Filippo. 

Out of the peril, then. 

[Filippo tries to hold back Valeria ; but she escapes him, runs 
across stage, and out at the other side, followed with wild 
laughter by the rest.] 

Cardinal. 
You know that voice ! 

Florimond. 

It is Valeria. 

Cardinal. 
You are in danger, Florimond. Beware 
Lest honor's drum and cymbals stir your blood 
Less than the reed of love. 
27 



Florimond, 

You are suspicious. 
This flower upon my breast will not retard 
My march to yonder white-browed mountain-top. 

Cardinal. 
No, but to lie upon a bank of flowers, 
Breathing their soporific soft perfumes, 
Will much retard your march. And 1 do fear 
This beggar of the court. Her eyes burn low, 
Smoldering a fire that one provoking touch 
Will quicken into soul-consuming flame. 
Ah, son, love is the death of great designs — 
Destroy it ! 

Florimond. 
Cardinal, it is repose. 
If I lie lazy in the lap of love 
'T is but the lion dreaming. 

Cardinal. 

Long ago 
A hero dreamed thus idly, and awoke 
Shorn of his strength. 

Florimond. 

He was a fool as well. 
Content you, Cardinal. And now make haste 
Back to the palace, for 1 hear them coming. 
Soon I will follow. 



Cardinal. 
If I trust yoLi not 
There is no hope. Think of your father's blood — 
Be true. 

Florimond. 
My father's blood be on my head 

If I have lied ! 

Cardinal. 

' There speaks the Vancua ! 

Man, I will doubt no more — my hand upon it. 

Florimond. 
Good-night. 

[ Exit the Cardinal. ] 

How fierce he is to eat unripe 
The fruit I shall watch mellow on the bough 
Before I touch it — time enough and more 
For soft encounters with Valeria. 
Surely she is the daintiest thing that ever 
Tempted the lips of princes. All is still — 
They have forsook the search, gone to the palace. 
Now will the hare turn hunter. 

[Enter Valeria stealthily. A lute is slung over her shoulder. She 
is startled at seeing him.] 

Valeria. 

Ah, my lord, 

You are a favorite ; a moment since 

A dozen revelers scoured the darkness for you. 

You'll find them at the palace. 



Florimond. 

Sweet tormentor, 
What do I care for revels, save when you 
Make Hght and music of them ? Do not think 
Now to escape me. Do you know how long 
The weary days have chased the nights away 
Since you and I have found an hour alone ? 

Valeria. 
Alas, my lord, twice hath the sky grown black 
To mourn the muteness of your passion. 



Nay- 



Florimond. 

It seems a weary year, for every hour 
Thine eyes do not illumine wears for me 
Night's black complexion. O Valeria, 
Thy beauty is the sun of my delight. 
Why does it always wear a veil of frowns 
Or smiles more cold ? 

Valeria, 

My lord knows it is death 
To stand in the hot sunlight of the south. 
1 would not kill him with unguarded favor — 
Therefore his skies are gray. 

Florimond. 

But I would toss 
Life to the winds to feel but one swift flash 
Of such unutterable rapture. 



Valeria. 

No, 
Life is too dear a thing to toss away. 
I fear me death has heard your bold defiance 
And but awaits my yielding to accept it. 

Florimond. 
Oh, you are flippant as the summer winds! 
I will not bow forever at the breath 
Of your wild coquetry. Mock me no more! 
Hear me — I love you 

Valeria, 
What my lord says now 
He oft has said before. 

Florimond. 

But nevermore 
Will he be paid with folly. If my love 
Rise to your heart in rapture, you are mine — 
Now — ever J If you spurn it you shall know 
The force of what you spurn. This is the end. 
I am no dangler of the court, content 
To take one smile in twenty, to be paid 
For my heart's wealth with laughter. Give me now 
All that I ask, or by the saints — 

Valeria. 

My lord — 

And if I loved a man of ancient name, 

High in the state — the plume in fortune's cap, 

31 



What would it profit my unworthiness, 
Whose ancestry was heedless as the birds, 
That think of naught but song? 

Florimond. 

It might avail, 
if he you loved could soar to heaven with you, 
To set an earthly title on that brow 
imperial nature crowned with beauty. 

Valeria. 

Ah! 
Too many voices call you, and to all 
You lend a willing ear. To-night 't is love, 
And the enchanting music of his lute 
Lulls you to dreams till you forget the world. 
To-morrow glory will awake your soul, 
And love will be forgotten. 

Florimond. 

Say you so ? 
My ship is anchored in the harbor there. 
Come — let us sail to-morrow far away, 
And hear love's voice forever ! 

Valeria. 

Know you not 
1 am the plaything of the court, the jester 
These idle nobles bandy words with ? Faugh ! 
A little petted by the king — permitted 
32 



Close to his ear, because my voice is sweet 

And songs delight his soul. But have you noted 

How the great ladies kindle to disdain 

If my heart bounds across the chasm between us ? 

They suffer me for laughter or for song, — 

'T is the king's will, forsooth, and must be borne, — 

But never fellowship. Hast thou seen this. 

And durst thou try to lift me to their rank, 

When failure means thy shame ? 

Florimond. 

Valeria, 

Beyond the waters many a kingdom lies 

Beside whose spacious acres this our country 

Is but a handsbreadth. Let us sail away. 

And seek great kings who know of thee and me 

Naught save the name they cannot choose but honor. 

There shall thy beauty shine unclouded; there 

The rank God gave thee men shall not dispute — 

These heathenish men, who see how fair thou art, 

And ask some other proof of noble race 

Than eyes divinely lit, hair all aglow, 

A voice from heaven's own choir, and cheeks that flush 

Even now to feel the breath of homage. Come ! 

And we will drift across long languid days, 

And feel the salt wind on our brows, and watch 

The red sun bear his train into the sea. 

And leave the sky aglow with stars. Ah, come! 

Hence on white wings to paradise! 

3 33 



Valeria. 

1 fear 
Thy words have white wings, for my soul is borne 
Half way to paradise already. 

Florimond. 

Ah! 
Thou lov'st me then? 

Valeria. 
Thou canst not guess how long 
Thy face has haunted me. A child was I 
When thou didst check thy steed, and wait, and gaze, 
And listen to my song. The coin thou threwest — 
See, I have kept it, though I hungered oft 
And this would buy a feast. I hungered oft, 
But death seemed easier than the loss of it. 

Florimond. 
I too remember well that day, dear love. 
My heart was surfeited with shows of things 
When thy voice si^ake from heaven unto my soul. 
And taught mine ears the sweeping harmonies 
Thy spirit caught afar. Ah ! sing me now 
One song that I may treasure as mine own, 
That none have heard nor shall hear. Let thy heart 
Confess to me in melody. I wait 
To hear how well thou lov'st me. 

34 



yaleria. 

Ask no more ! 
How do I know if this be love which shines 
Alluring as a torch ? My fate has bowed 
To such strange thoughts. Even when I saw thee first 
Thy splendor dazed my soul, and evermore 
The thought of thee suggested palaces 
And kings and fair maids feasting in delight, 
And filled my heart with longing and despair. 
But was this love of thee or love of me, 
Who can remember not one day of life 
Unwarmed by hot desire of greatness? Ah! 
Oft in my mother's arms beside the sea 
My sobs have met the moaning of the waves 
For all earth's glory that 1 might not share ; 
And when I wandered forth to sing, my voice 
Was freighted with this passion, and would bear 
Swift thought beyond the dust of humble ways, 
To walk with kings. 'T is so even here — to-day. 
Now that old dreams are firm realities 
New fancies float above them, and perchance 
If those were mine not yet would sweet content 
Brush off the dust from eyes grown blind to truth. 

Florimoiid. 
Let love perform that office ! He alone 
Has power to wake thy life to happiness. 
The longings of the old time and the new 
35 



Were but vague gropings toward his glorious light. 
This bright dawn will absorb the vapors, sweet, 
Thy rich imaginings — ah, let it rule! 
Look in my eyes and say thou hast forgot 
Time and the luring world. 

Valeria. [With steadfast gaze.] 

Upon my soul 
I think I love thee. 

Florimond. 

Nay, I know thou dost. 
Now let the world grow gray — our hearts are gold! 
This for immortal joy! 

[He kisses her.] 
Valeria. [Shuddering.] 

Immortal! Ah! 
To-day is ours; to-morrow — who shall tell 
If God or devil grasp it? It is strange — 
There is some boding in my deepest heart. 
But — dost thou truly love me? 

Florimond. 

Love! The rose 
Less dear is to the bee than thou to me. 

Valeria. 
And wilt thou ever? 

Florimond. 

While my soul has breath. 
36 



Valeria, 
Speak not so lightly. 

[She recoils with a sudden thought ; then, suppressing her emotion, 
continues. ] 

If thou lov'st me then 
Go back and seek the masquers. Leave me here. 
Go — 1 must be alone ! 

Florimond. 

What dost thou mean ? 

Valeria. 
I mean a thousand things — I mean — my head 
Is whirling and must think. Oh, do not tarry ! 
Wilt thou deny my little first request? 

Florimond. 
Nay, but what means this sudden swift alarm ? 
The hour is peaceful. 'Neath the tent of night 
We may prepare our wings for flight. 

Valeria. 

Not now — 

To-morrow, not to-day. 

Florimond. 

To-morrow eve 
Our boat shall sail away — Oh, pledge ine that ! 

Valeria. 
Soon, soon, my lord, if you deny me not. 
Good-night ! 

3* 37 



Florimond. 
I '11 not deny thee. Give me now 
The jewel of thy love set in a song, 
And I will leave thee, bearing in my heart 
So rich a dower a king might envy me 
That pearl of memory and hope. 

Valeria. 

A song? 
Thou hast it then ! 

[She sings softly, at first slowly and searchingly, then rapidly 
and with intense enthusiasm.] 

I love thee — my heart 

Hath its secret no more ! 
I love thee ; thou art 

All of earth I adore. 
Thy strength is my shield 

And thy glory my crown. 
To thy keeping I yield 

Thought, desire, and renown. 

Three treasures I bring. 

Like the wise men of old 
Who gave to our King 

Myrrh, incense, and gold. 
Here is beauty for wealth, 

And for perfume a song : 
Tears for myrrh fall by stealth 

From a rapture too strong. 

38 



Come, take me ! My soul 

To thy search is laid bare, 
And thy touch doth control 

All my life unaware. 
I love thee — and thou — 

If thy vows are but truth , 
What 's the world to us now? 

What is time to our youth ? 

Flofimond. [Seizing her and gazing in her eyes. ] 

Turn to me ! look at me ! 
Am I a block that you should sing such words. 
And gaze in air ? 

yaleria. 
Loose me^ — what did i say? 

Florimond . 
Woman or sphinx, what art thou — ^ stone or fire? 

Valeria. 
Oh, leave me ! leave me ! Do not think of me ! 

Florimond. 
My soul shall think of nothing else forever, 
My changeling, 'T is thy blessing or thy curse, 
Whichever thou shalt choose. 

yaleria. 

Wilt thou not go ? 

39 



Florimond. 
Thou dost but dream, thou merciless, virgin thing. 
To teach thee what love is — that would be brave 
Beyond man's power. A god or fool might do it. 
I look into thine eyes and hardly dare. 
There 's something in thy soul love must beware, 
A mortal challenge. 1 will answer it — 
Adore thee, conquer thee, and make thee mine. 

yaleria. 
Or kill me. 

Florimond. 

Mine or death's. Ay, thou shall choose 

Me or the grave. 

[Exit Florimond] 

yaleria. 
Fool ! fool ! what have I done ? 
I do not love him thus — no, no — not thus ! 
Why did I sing? There is enchantment in it — 
This music makes me mad ! Alas! alas! 
What wild words did 1 utter — and to him ! 
That man has cast a spell about me ; yet 
I dare not call it love, save when his eyes 
Are gazing into mine, and all the world 
Seems far away and buried in the past. 
Let me forget it all, and close my lips 
Lest witchcraft force a song from them. 
40 



The prince — 
I had ahnost forgot the prince's order. 
But 'tis the hour and 1 am here alone — 
Yet through what chances! If the messenger 
Had found him here ! 

I wonder what the prince 
Desires of me, that he should send to-night 
A special courier from the slumbering host— 
The gentle prince, who seems so like a child. 
And yet wins battles! Let me read again 
The note he sent me. 

[Takes a paper from her pocket. ] 

At the hour of twelve 
Be near the thicket in the grounds alone. 
There one will meet thee from the prince, who bath 
Much to inform thee of. Alone — be faithful. 

It is past twelve. 

[The Prince has entered quietly at rear, in mask and domino. Ap- 
proaching, he removes his mask, and softly seizes the paper from 
her hand.] 

The Prince. 
Behold the messenger ! 

Valeria. 

The Prince. 
Hush ! 

41 



Your highness! 



yaleria. 
What means this ? 

The Prince. 

I could trust 
No other lips to-night. How true thou art! 
I knew thou wouldst be here, 

Valeria. 

Alas, my lord ! 
I am a thing inconstant to all else 
Save this mad music that enslaves me so. 

The Prince. 
Nay, do not wrong thyself. 

Valeria. 

The truth can do 
No wrong. What wouldst thou say to me? 

The Prince. 

My heart 
Is busy with old dreams, Valeria. 

Valeria. 
Your highness has the power — the power. Ah me! 
You need not dream. 

The Prince. 

But dost thou know my dream ? 



yaleria. 
Old fires rekindle, old ambitions flash 
To flame in this great triumph — is it this? 

The Prince. 
Would such thoughts bring me here dii^guised, alone, 
Where glory will receive me open-armed 
To-morrow ? 

Valeria, 
Let my praises be the first. 
You have been brave indeed, and all the world 
Is trumpeting your fame. 

The Prince. 

Speak not of that. 
Thy praise the jewel is in glory's crown, 
But do not give it now. My soul is filled 
With humbleness to-night. The waves of triumph 
May bear me high to-morrow, but not now. 
1 have done nothing, or so poor a thing 
It is not worth a breath, except — 

Valeria. 

Except ? 

The Prince. 
One blessing it has brought, so dear, so sweet, 
Power cannot rival it, though I should make 
This hill the center of the world. 



Valeria. 

And that — 

The Prince. 
Hast thou not guessed? You women, I have heard, 
Scent out these precious secrets of our hearts. 

Valeria. 
I am too httle womanly, your highness — 
Alas — too little womanly ! 

The Prince. 

Thou art 
The only woman in the world for me. 
This is my message — I have come to say 
1 love thee.' 

Valeria. 
Oh, be merciful ! 

The Prince. 

But why 
Am I unmerciful? 

Valeria. 

You love me — you ? 

The Prince. 
What ! am I more or less than man to thee? 
Have I no eyes for beauty, and no heart 
To waken to love's music ? 

44 



(Valeria. 

Say no more — 
I cannot bear it. You have ranked so high 
hi my soul's gratitude — how can I hve 
And hear dishonor from you ? Heaven knows 
1 have beheld the rampant vice of the time, 
But never hugged it. Have you found a charm 
To make it lovelier? If your highness please, 
No more of this ! Why did you send for me ? 

The Prince. 
Not for dishonor — by my soul 1 swear it! 
I have no thought thou mayst not share. My heart 
Lies open to thy questioning. 

yaleria. 

And yet 
You speak of love between us — -between us? 

The Prince. 
Thou know'st not how my heart has ached with it 
For five long years, and yet has made no sign 
Lest the hot breath of slander should assail thee. 
I loved thee from the first. 1 never knew 
A thought of women till I heard thy song 
And saw the sunlight of thy face go out 
And leave all dark in the world. But since that hour 
One hope has been the purpose of my life, 

45 



The star that guided all my striving. Now 
It leads me to the gates of paradise, 
And thou shalt open them. 

Valeria. 

Upon my soul, 
My lord is in a jesting mood to-night — 
I understand him not. 

The Prince. 

Is it so strange 
That I should throw my fortunes at thy feet ? 
If thou but knew how I have worked for this. 
How I have planned, fought, labored, though the sun 
Shone hot upon my youth, and bade me pause. 
My jewels of renown are all for thee ; 
My victories are thine — they have been won 
To make thy crown the brighter, for at last 
I have the right to wed thee. 

Valeria. 

Are you mad ? 

What mean you? Me, a beggar — me, a weed 

Plucked from the highway ! You would marry me? 

Impossible ! You have forgot the king. 

The Prince. 
I have forgotten nothing. Dear my heart, 
Why dost thou doubt me ? Do I love deceit ? 
46 



(Valeria . 
No, no, I cannot doubt you, though my mind 
Gropes blindly and in vain. 

Tbe Prince. 

Then will 1 lead it 
Forth to the light, for 1 will tell thee all. 
My father loves me ; he who seems so cold 
Keeps yet his heart green for his son, and fresh 
With constant thoughts strewn o'er a grave long closed. 
He loves me, and the subtle power of love 
Can bend the will of kings, Valeria. 
Thus did I gain thy entrance to the court, 
The usage due a maid of rank for thee. 
And all that nurture of thy highest thought 
Which makes men marvel at thy learning now, 
And seek thee more than princesses. Througlt all 
I guarded well the secret of my love. 
'T was but a whim, forsooth, this wondrous child - 
Too beautiful for soiling in the dust, 
A voice too rich to beat the vacant air 
When courtly ears are longing for a song ; 
And such a mind — 'twere profitable now 
To see what may be done with it, to know 
What should be valued in our vaunted birth. 
If one may purify such vagrant blood. 
Thus did 1 cheat them all with sophistries — 
The idle crowd, that yearns the live-long day 

47 



For some new toy to wonder at. And then 

I sought that thou shouldst please the king, and charm 

His cares away with music. Fruitfully 

That seed has prospered, for thou art to-day 

His friend and comforter ; his secret heart 

Admits thee as a daughter. 

Valeria. 

Do you think 
His pride is dead ? 

The Prince. 
White hairs have dulled the fire 
That burned so hot in youth. His mind begins 
To doubt the old priority of rank. 
And he will yield — there is a surer reason. 
When first this cloud of war rose threatening 
He summoned me, and to my sword entrusted 
The safety of the state, and said to me : 
Perchance these eyes may never see thee more, 
My son, my child. Our case is desperate ; 
Fierce ruin hangs about thy steps, and thou 
Mayst scarce avoid her clutches. Shouldst thou fail, 
Then all is gone but death — they are too strong. 
These enemies of mine. And then we talked 
Of arms and stratagems, debating chances 
Through hopeless hours, till at the dawn a path 
Seemed opening dimly, blind and overhung 
With briers and barriers, yet that led perchance 



To light and victory ! And I shouted loud, 

Crying: We'll strike them yet — despair not yet! 

Hold but a tight rein at the capital, 

And by St. Michael's sword, I '11 punish them ! 

And as he rose, all flashing o'er with joy, 

A thought sprang to my heart, and from my lips: 

Give me one promise, sire, and I will win 

Though all the stones were enemies! — Ask then 

My crown itself! he said. Nay, sire, not that. 

If I bring back the glory of our house, 

The safety of the kingdom, let me have 

The woman whom 1 love to be my wife. 

The king laughed in his overflow of hope. 

Thou lov'st then, Andrea? By my soul, 1 thought 

Thy heart free as a nun's ! Well, thou shouldst 

have her 
Were she a goddess ! So, Valeria, 
The king has given his pledge, and thou — 



The Prince. 
I cast my love and power before thy feet, 
My fame, the crown I shall inherit — all. 
Wilt thou not take them ? 

Valeria. 
Yes. 

4 49 



And 1 ? 



The Prince. 

By all the saints! 
Thou shalt be happy as the golden dawn! 
And I will win thee kingdoms, till thy crown 
Shall fit thy queenliness. Great deeds become 
As easy of achievement as a dance, 
Now thou art mine forever. 

Valeria. 

1 thank my lord 
That he has sued for what his power might take. 

The Prince. 

I would not wed thee without wooing, love ; 

Nor speak thy name into the public ear 

Without a word to thee. It was to say it 

1 rode these leagues to-night, and now again 

Must ride them, for the ruthless hours lead on 

Close to the morn. To-morrow, when I come 

With banners and with music, be thou near 

All white, where I may see thee first. And now 

Farewell ! 

Valeria. 

1 will remember. 

The Prince. 

O my love, 
1 leave my heart upon this shrine forever, 
And all my life shall be an orison. 

[He kisses her hand. Exit the Prince.] 
50 



Valeria. 
Ah, God ! this tumult in my blood and brain 
Will cool up there where he has called me. There, 
Enthroned with him beyond desire, my soul 
Shall rest at last — shall be at peace, at peace! 
Afar from him — that other, and his eyes, 
That rob me of my soul ! What words he said ! 
There 's something in thjy soul love must beware. 
God keep me free of love ! God keep me free ! 
Me or the grave. What deadly fear is this? 
Oh, it is chill, 't is cold. Valeria! 
Alas ! what hast thou done, Valeria ! 

[She sinks to the ground, covering her face with her hands.] 

[Curtain.'] 



51 



&A 





ACT II 








ACT 



Scene. — A spacious hall in the palace. Several ladies of the court 
discovered, including Tora, Piera, and Olivia. 



Piej'a. 
Faith, I am glad this weary war is over. 
The court has been as full of merriment 
As yonder austere convent during Lent. 
I'd rather be a nun, and fast and faint, 
Than play the hypocrite with mirth. 

Tora. 

Alas! 

Piera has been lonely. When the prince 

Brings back our troop of fighting friends to-day 

The old sweet atmosphere of compliment 

Will bring the roses to her cheeks again. 



Piera. 
If not, I'll hie me to the convent straight. 
Where pallor is becoming. 
55 



Tora. 

If the king 
Had let us live under the cloud of war 
We could have hugged our griefs with much content. 
But no — he would have revels ; all the court 
Must wear the laughing mask of peace, and so 
What wonder if we sighed behind it? 

Pier a. 

None ! 
How can a dozen ladies cheer a court 
With but a man or two to gladden them, 
And those in love ? 

Olivia. 

This girl Valeria 
Affects the bearing of a queen. 

Tora. 

In truth 

She has it. Doubtless she amuses you — 
A stranger ! 

Pier a. 
Is she not n queen indeed, 
Now that our noblest knight is at her feet ? 

Olivia. 
Queen of a day ! The high-born Florimond 
Will not long drag his honor in the dust 
Her arrogance would blind you with. 
56 



Piera. 

For me, 
She doth amuse me. I profess to be 
A seeker after truth, and she reveals 
The worthlessness of ancestry. I think 
Were she a daughter of the Antonines 
She could not walk more proudly, nor indulge 
A loftier ambition. 

Tor a. 

Did you note 
How her mask vanished from the motley crowd 
That vainly broke the shadowy garden's hush 
Seeking Count Florimond last night — the truant? 

[Enter Florimond. J 

Florimond. 
What lips, too sweet for aught but honeyed words, 
Blend with their dulcet sounding of my name 
A cruel epithet? 

Piera. 
My lord, what tongue, 
Too lightly set to wag for truth alone, 
Dares to deny the epithet ? 

FJorimoud. 

A truant 
Flees from the weary business of the hour 
To chase bright-winged pleasure. I can be 
57 



No truant, for my hour of banishment 
From the despotic kingdom of your wit 
Was spent in grave discourse. 

Pier a. 

And yet 't is rumored 

The wittiest despot in our crowd of masks 

Found the deserter whom we sought in vain, 

All in despite of darkness, and beguiled 

His grave discourse. 

Florimond. 

Think you the woman lives 
Who could discover what you fail to find? 

Pier a. 
Your heart, my lord ? The task is difficult, 
The guerdon light, and yet the gossips say 
One has succeeded. 

Florimond. 

I must doubt your wit 
If you believe the gossips. 

Tor a. 

They alone 
Have not convinced us. Listen, all of you, 
And judge him. When this day, so golden now. 
Had slept away an hour or two in darkness, 
58 



And flaring revels flickered to their death, 
I left the palace, hot with eagerness 
To find a precious jewel I had lost. 
I and my woman, in whose hand a torch 
Sputtered its petty protest to the night, 
Searched all the grassy coverts, peering deep 
Down shadowy tangles I had clambered through 
In the wild search for the deserter there. 
When lo ! beside the thickest copse of all 
A heap of star-beams lay before our feet, 
Like pale flowers, new-caparisoned in dew, 
And when we bent inquiringly the torch 
It showed Valeria. Prone upon the ground, 
Her hands clasped high above the lifeless face 
That kissed the soft caressing turf, she lay — 
As though at last the orphan waif had found 
A mother's greeting, and the loving earth 
Had claimed her child. 

Florimotid. 

But you revived her ? 

Tora. 

Long 
The soul refused to greet us from her eyes, 
But we despaired not, and at last it came ; 
And she arose and leaning wearily 
Trailed with us to the palace. 

59 



Florimond. 

Did she speak ? 

Tora. 
Your name was on her lips and, linked with it, 
Wild, unintelligible mutterings. 

Pier a. 
New will you still deny the interview? 

Florimond. 
Nay, if you would infer sweet hours of talk 
Each time a lovely lady speaks my name 
My time must all be yours. 

Pier a. 

1 think it will, 
For you are placed so high in my disdain 
My tongue can never tell it oft enough. 

Florimond. 
Disdain shall have my thanks for keeping me 
Fresh in your mind. 1 humbly beg your grace. 
Your patient, whom the perfume of sweet thoughts 
Saddened to swooning — has her soul revived? 
Why comes she not ? 

60 



Tor a. 

She could not sleep, my lord. 
This morn her cheeks are hot, and in her eyes 
A sunken fire is glowing. 

Florimond. 

Will she come 
To view the pageant ? 

Tor a. 
Though the burning fingers 
Of countless fevers clutch her, she will come. 
Such was her answer when I counseled rest. 

Pier a. 
You counseled rest — to her! O lady mine, 
Talk to the torrent — waste not such advice 
Upon Valeria ! 

Florimond. 
Where are your festal robes, 
My tardy maids ? The banners of the prince 
Will crown the hill ere you are half bedecked 
To grace his triumph. 

Tor a. 
He dismisses us — 
Come, let us go. 

6i 



Pier a. 
And show this splendid count, 
Whose toilet has been building since the dawn, 
How swiftly they can dress who have no need 
Of art and artifice. 

Florimond. 
Nay — who have made them slaves, 
To drive the car of beauty over us. 

[Exeunt all but Florimond.] 

I fear my soul was dead or mad last night. 

What eyes she has to witch away the world, 

Make memory a void, and thought a wind 

Blown from eternity to bear afar 

Earth's frail illusions! Now the day grows strong 

And drives away the clinging mists of night 

That blinded me. 1 will arouse my soul. 

That, lulled by perfumes, sleeps upon its task. 

I will delay the triumph of my love — 

Or plan it otherwise. I will prepare 

And strike this blow. Three zealous months would 

do it. 
Ah ! 't is the curse of such a double life, 
A man may lose himself in what he seems, 
And be the thing he acts ! I have grown dull — 
The cardinal was right. The Vancua blood 
Flows pale and turgid in me. Day by day 
I linger here, nursing a fond pretense 
62 



Of gradual achievement, trying to forge 
Great deeds with fives unfit. Have I no strength 
Even to resolve ? Must fate supply the torch 
I dare not light ? 

Faugh ! what a thrang of thoughts 
Comes questioning ! Away with them ! 

I The King's Guards approach and range themselves. Enter the King 
and Liperata. Florimond kneels and kisses the King's hand.] 

Alas ! 
In my friend's glofy I shall have no share — 
Would I had fought with him ! 

The King. 

Is all prepared ? 

Florimond. 
As ready as our hearts, sire. 

The King. 

Will 't go well? 

Florimond. 
The pageant will be royal as the deed. 
The town is swarming at the gates; the hill 
Is one continuous festival, and soon 
Its summit will be crowned with banners, and 
The waving plumes of heroes. 
63 



The King. 

Hasten, then ! 
I envy much the doer of great deeds, 
And yet thy part is dearer to my soul, 
Who shalt be first to crown him with our praise. 
I pray thee, weave not all the garland there 
On the hill's summit. Spare a leaf or two 
To give our greeting freshness. 

Florimond. 

Sire, my heart 
Is longing for my friend, and when once more 
My hand clasps his I shall forget to hail 
The prince and victor. 

The King. 

Leave that to the cheers 
Of the rejoicing people. Now go forth — 
The glad throng waits. 

Florimond. 

Ah, sire, permit me now, 
On this great day that makes your power immortal, 
Once to salute my king, whose generous soul 
Would give his heir the glory. 

The King. 

He will make 
A king worth dynasties of such as 1, 
And you will live to know it. 
64 



Florinwnd. 

I shall lose 
The richest treasure of my memory first. 

[He kisses the King's hand. Exit Florimond] 

The King. 
Such friends are better than dead enemies, 
Whose blood enriches harvests of revenge. 
Do you not think so? 

Liperata. 

Do not ask me, sire. 
I am haunted by a shadowy distrust 
Of his assiduous loyalty. 

The King. 

Your reason ? 

Liperata. 
I cannot tell — I have none. Yet of old 
The chieftains of the house of Vancua 
Could not so easily forget. 

The King. 

Of old 
The Vancuas were valiant enemies, 
Fierce in their hatred, swift in their revenge. 
For centuries their stainless honor shone 
Pure as an altar flame not once obscured 
< 65 



By the foul vapor of hypocrisy. 

And when at last their greatness sank in blood 

And night and ruin fell about their house, 

I saved this youth from the impending death 

That such a heritage of honesty 

Might fortify me in the people's love. 

Had Florimond defied me, had he spurned 

My clemency, I should have recognized 

The wild ancestral wilfulness ; but since 

He could forgive the iron hand that struck 

Great blows in a great cause, that crushed their factions 

To make a nation strong, and bring again 

Union and power to threatened Italy — 

I must believe him true, for in his blood 

There is no taint of falsehood. 

Liperaia. 

Yet they say 
His mother was a Florentine. New times 
Beget new crimes. To-day in Italy 
Traitors are thick as fig-trees. 



The Ki)ig. 

Have no fear. 
Were he a traitor he had struck before — 
Now 't is too late. We are too strong to-day 
To fear a world of foes. 

66 



Liperata. 

Your majesty 
Has verily the seat of Jove to-day. 
Long may you hold the thunder in your hands 
And late bequeath it to your dauntless son ! 

The King. 
It is of him I dream by day and night. 
He will bring back what Italy has lost. 
His mother's soul shines forth in him again, 
Loving and conquering. Do you believe 
That she is glad with us? 

Liperata. 

Can death kill love? 
Where is your faith ? 

The King. 
It faints with longing. 

Liperata. 

Nay, 
You should not falter. You have walked with angels 
Pure Love and sacred Sorrow. You are blest. 

[Enter, sumptuously attired, Tora, Piera, and ladies of the court. 

The King. 
Hail to our rainbow-herald! Ladies, what news? 
67 



Tor a. 
The prince is almost at the palace gates, 
So pressed by loving throngs he scarce can move. 

The King. 

They know not our impatience. 

[The King sits upon his throne. Tora advances to Liperata. ] 

Tor a. 

O my mother, 
How blessed is this day ! The sun climbs high, 
And o'er the arid autumn of the fields 
Our hero-prince comes glowing from the war ! 
At last the hour has come. 

[Enter Cardinal Ortus and train.] 

The King. 

Most noble guests, 
This morn to you be gracious as to me ! 
My bravest steeds are yours, lord cardinal, 
For the long march this morning. 

Cardinal. 

Sire, my age 
Sits not so lightly on a horse's back 
As did my youth. If, then, your majesty 
Will grant me but one window in the tower, 
68 



A friend or two from these my followers, 
Their eyes will show me all, and from afar 
The noise will fade to music. 

The King. 

Be it so — 
if you desire such kindless entertainment 
Through all our joy. 

[Enter Valeria, in white, bearing a lute.] 

Behold Valeria ! 
They told me she was ill, but here 1 see 
A face all roses, starred with eyes all fire. 

Valeria. 
My brain was hot until the morning, sire ; 
But such frail humors wait upon the will, 
And mine has banished them. 

The King. 

'T was bravely done. 

Cardinal. 
The bird of song hath dipped her gaudy plumes 
In the white sea-foam. 

The King. 

May the nereids 
Have had no power to filch away her voice ! 
5* 69 



Valeria. 
Alas! your majesty has never heard 
A sea-maid's song across the waning tide, 
Else would you know she need not envy me 
My mortal music. 

Cardinal. 
You have heard it then ? 

Valeria. 
Oft when my soul was young, and dwelling close 
With things invisible ; and when the sea, 
Father of music, rolled his endless tune 
About mine ears. 

The King. 
Now let us hear her song 
As you remember it. 

Valeria. 

I saw her rise 
Star-crowned from out the sea, and snowy waves 
Gemmed her bright hair with foam. Then like a bell 
Rung in deep waters came her voice to me. 

[She sings.'] 
The great birds beat the friendless air 
And spread their white wings wide. 
The sinewy sea upholdeth me ; 

Couched softly on the tide, 
The foamy winds my coursers are, 
And dauntlessly I ride. 
70 



All day the circling sun doth sweep 

His wealth along the sea ; 
The stars all night pursue his flight 

From bondage never free. 
Yet night and day, awake, asleep, 

The ocean guardeth me. 

When afar, by the turbulent winds upblown, 

Big seas pile black on high. 
And the waters race to their fierce embrace 

Under a sightless sky — 
In the depths whither exiled peace has flown 

I wait for the storm to die. 

Oh, come hither ! come over the ocean to me. 

Ye weary slaves ashore ! 
On his throbbing breast ye shall softly rest, 

Or, prone on the wreathed floor. 
Rapt in dreams of peace, from the mad world free. 

Ye shall toil and weep no more ! 

Pier a. 
If such a song came o'er the waves to me 
I would obey and drown me. 

l^aleria. 

Many a wretch, 
Lured by that voice, lies stark beneath the waves. 

The King. 
Pray heaven we hear it not ! 
71 






Valeria. 

Men wholly wise 
Or wholly happy never hear it, sire. 

The King. 
Hush ! do you hear that sound? 

Voices. [Without.] 

They come! they come! 

[Clattering sounds are heard far down the distant corridor. As they 
grow louder the voices of women commence this song :] 

O maids, weave garlands for the dance — 

The war is done 1 
Pluck laurel for the conquering lance — 

The fight is won ! 
Come singing through the city's gate ; 
Beyond, the conquering flag of state 

Gleams in the sun. 

Your lords and lovers come again 

You sent with tears. 
Come dance and sing, for all in vain 

Were sighs and fears. 
Come dance, for down tlie hill they come 
To sound of fife and tap of drum — 

Rouse heaven with cheers ! 

Weave laurel for the victors there, 

And sing their praise ; 
And, maids, if some come not to wear 

Your crown of bays, 
72 



Faint not, but dance ! Unfurl on high 
The flag for which they dared to die, 
And paeans raise ! 

[While singing, the troop of maidens slowly enters, rhythmically 
dancing as they sing, and scattering flowers. Then come the 
King's councilors and ecclesiastical dignitaries in robes of 
office. The Prince's body-guard enters next, whereupon the 
King rises from his throne. During the singing all those of the 
court have been visibly moved, some much excited, a few 
women weeping. Valeria especially is absorbed as in a 
dream, and unconsciously her body sways with the dance and 
her lips move with the song. After the body-guard come the 
youthful cavalcade who had gone with Florimond to meet the 
Prince ; and lastly Florimond leads in Prince Andrea himself, 
followed by his chief officers, among them being Count Leone. 
As Valeria sees Florimond she shrinks back with a shudder, 
and covers her face with her hands. But the next instant she 
draws herself proudly up and meets his eye in a long gaze, 
while the King descends the steps from the throne, and the 
Prince hastens to kneel at his feet.] 

The King. 
Rise — to my heart, and may the frown of fate 
Part us no more! If I were rich in speech 
My praise should set thy name among the stars, 
My son ! 

The Prince. 
At last I feel thy blood in me. 



The King. 



My conqueror ! 



The Prince. 
Thine enemies', my lord. 
73 



The King. 
Where are they ? 

The Prince. 

Sire, thou hast none. Read the proof 
Here, in this treaty. 

[The King takes the parchment, and the two read and converse to- 
gether in an undertone. In the mean time Andrea's officers seek 
out their wives and friends in the throng. ] 

Liperata. 

Joy is queen again ! 
Conquerors, were your pathway paved with gems 
'T were yet unworthy. All our hearts' delight 
No pageantry can tell. 

Tor a. 

We thank you all, 
And for your scars we weep. Signor, 't was you 
Who led them by the woody mountain-pass 
To strike the enemy's heart. We heard the tale. 
Ah, Count Leone, have you sheathed your sword 
To whet your tongue again ? 

Leone. 

My lady, no; 
I crown you victor in the war of words 
And dare contend no more. 



Tor a. 

Brave deeds alone 
Beget such modesty. My noble lord, 
Your race is rich in glory — and your brother, 
Where is he ? 

Agnolo 
Dead, my lady. 

Tora. 

Nay, his name 
Will live when we are dead. 'T is well with him. 
Alas! I know a maid will weep for this — 
Bear her the tidings gently. 

Valeria. 

[To three or four gentlemen who have sought her out.] 

Now may the world be merry once again. 
Such funeral revels we have held, my lords — 
With terror at the gates, and fierce despair 
Luring the enemy hither. 

A Gentleman. 

Had they come. 
You need but sing to charm their hate away 
And make them slaves. 

Valeria. 
I '11 sing no more, my lords: 
Then will you let me brood in solitude, 
Until, aweary of the faithless world, 

75 



I drag my lone soul to a nunnery 
And tune my harp for heaven. 

Florimond. 

Sing no more — 
Your speech alone is tuneful. Speak no more — 
There 's music in your eyes. Be blind and dumb, 
And still the spirit of melodious sounds 
Will be your herald. 

Valeria. 
And when I shall die 
Music will perish with me. Ah, my lords, 
Forgive this courtier ! In the fire of war 
You must have purged your souls of flattery — 
Teach him how easy 't is to speak the truth. 
What are you seeking, Count Leone ? Grant me 
But half a word. 

Leone. 
I knew a lady once — 
Tell me, I pray you, has she died of grief? 

VaUria. 
'Tis but a leaden conscience drags her from you. 
Question her well, my lord, and trust her little — 
If this is she. 

[Moving aside, she reveals Piera, who has been hiding from Leone, 
and now comes forward smiling. ] 

76 



Leone. 
Say thou hast kept the faith, 
Most noble lady. 

Pier a. 
Do not praise me for it. 
If I remember you 't is but because 
No rivals sued, my lord. 

Leone. 

I know full well 
You were half dead with grieving, and your face 
Betrays the fasts and vigils, and the tears 
You spent for me. 

Pier a. 
If I am thin, the cause 
Is revelry, for I assure your worship 
We have been merry far into the night. 
We know how jauntily the world would spin 
Were naught but women in it. 

Leone. 

And we men 
Dreamed you were pining for us, and forbore 
To woo the golden damsels of the north 
In pity for you. 

Piera. 
Constancy is made 
Of false compassion, then. 

77 



' Leone. 

Nobler than yours, 
Which dares not face a tempter. 

Pier a. 

You forget — 
I never promised constancy. 

Leone. 

1 know 
You wept upon me with a storm of sighs 
The day we parted. 

Pier a. 
Strange I should have feared, 
Who know you are so dear in your own love 
That the most tempting danger ne'er could lure 
Your feet from safety ! 

Leone. 

If my sword was cold 
'T was for your sake who could not live without me. 

Pier a. 
The brave new chivalry ! Of old a knight 
Offered great deeds like jewels to his love, 
Or fell to prove him worthy ^f her tears. 

Leone. 
What if a knight, whose arm would strive in vain 
To add a splendor to his lady's name. 



Yet felt the sweet infusion of her soul 
Urging him on to glory, and essayed 
To be not all ignoble, would she hold 
His striving worthy the divine reward? 

Pier a. 
I am not worthy such a knight, my lord. 
Go ask some nobler lady. 

Leone. 

I should seek her 
Through all the world in vain. 

The King. [To the Pnnce.] 

We are safe again ! 
Once more we clutch care by the throat, and smooth 
The frowning brow of fate. My Andrea, 
Thy father is thy debtor for his crown ; 
To the last word thou hast fulfilled thy promise. 

The Prince. 
And thine, my father? 

The King. 

I do not forget. 
Hast thou considered well ? 

The Prince. 

That hope has been 
The torch that led me on. 
79 



The King. 

And she is here — 
The lady whom thou lov'st ? 

The Prince. 

Ah! suffer me 
With her to kneel before thee ! 

The King. 

No — not yet. 
The world must be our witness to the bond — 
So shall we not escape, though all go ill. 

[The King ascends and stands in front of the throne, followed by the 
Prince, who takes his position just below him.] 

My countrymen ! — you whose intrepid souls 
Have borne our honor up the steeps of war, 
And you who from afar with hearts aflame 
Have watched their fierce ascent and cheered them on, 
Loosing the leash of treasure ; you as well, 
Mothers and wives of heroes, maidens pure, 
Whose high hearts wept the night away in prayers 
Till the glad dawn revealed a smiling heaven — 
Well have you served the state ! The insolent foe 
Crawls at your feet, and on the heights of fame. 
Caressed by skyey breezes, far above 
The reach of envious clouds, impregnable, 
'Your flag floats, streaming forth its hues of dawn, 
Lit by the sun of glory. For your toil, 
80 



Triuinphant now, we thank you. For your wounds, 
Your losses, and your woes a weeping land 
Uplifts her arms in blessing, and her praise, 
Smiling through tears, crowns each devoted head 
With immortality. May tender Peace 
Dwell on your hearths forever ! Joyous days 
Be your reward, and softly sunny age, 
Mellowed by mighty memories ! 

To one. 
Your leader in the brotherhood of arms. 
First in our pride and dearest in our love, 
We grant a special boon. Prince Andrea 
Claims as the promised prize of victory 
The lady of his love to be his wife. 
To him, who from the daughters of great kings 
May choose his spouse, we grant the privilege 
Of marriage with the lowliest, if such 
Be his desire. Yet we beseech his youth 
That no hot-blooded passion may obscure 
His duty to the state, which asks of him 
A queen of race heroic, fit to be 
The mother of great sons. 

The Prince. 

Sire, 1 am come 
From battle, and the iron robes of war 
Still cling about me. At my side still hangs 
The sword 1 wielded for my country's right. 



Think you unholy fires could e'er survive 

The red rain of that quenching? In my love 

I am still a patriot, and the maid I choose, 

Were she descended from a race of kings, 

And dowered with states for jewels, could not bring 

A soul more royal nor a richer store 

Of queenly treasures. With most humble hope 

I beg the purest thing of all the earth 

To stoop to such a battered warrior 

And teach him how to reign. 

[He kneels to Valeria.] 

Valeria. 

Ah, not to me ! 
You shame me to the soul. 

The King. 

Alas ! my son — 
Come back to me, my son! 

The Prince. 

Will you be false? 
1 lean upon your promise and your love. 

The King. 
And in the name of love I bid you pause. 

The Prince. 
When the long race is close upon the goal 
You bid the winner pause ! Recall such folly ! 

82 V 



The King. 
The goal you seek is but a veering vant 
The prize as volatile as air is. 



yaleria. 

Even you shall not insult me. 
The Prince. 

Trust to my love for all. 



Si I 



Do not speak ; 



yaleria. 

Most noble prince, 
This blessing of your love would make me rich ; 
But if the king doth scorn my empty hands 
And meager lineage, I repay his scorn. 
Great is he in the empire of the sword — 
In the pure realm of art my ancestors 
Were kings when his were bandits. On my soul 
I will not wed on sufferance. Give me back 
The wild free life you stole me from, my lord. 
Then was I empress of the world. My mind 
Was sister to great poets, and my soul 
Sang like the harp of God, and was at peace. 

The King. 
It is the truth — she is a thing afar. 
Our kingdom is not hers, nor is she fit 
To bear the bonds of earthly sovereignty. 
83 



My son, the colors of the dawn are fair ; 
But weave a mantle of the morning cloud 
And it will chill thee. Let my love once more 
Bid thee beware. 

yaleria. 

\, too, entreat my lord 
Not to enforce this whim. Ah, let me go ! 

The Prince. 
Dost thou forget? — Sire, have 1 ever changed? 

The King. 
Then must this be ? 

The Prince. 

Ay, by my mother's soul. 

The King. 
Then ring the bells — bid the great host advance, 
And set beside the conqueror's coal-black steed 
A snow-white palfrey for his fair betrothed. 
And let the heralds to the world proclaim 
The hero and the maid who one week hence 
Shall be his bride. 

Tor a. 
Mother, must we ride too? 

Liperata. 
With heavy hearts, my child. 



Tor a. 

1 know a journey 
More easy for the soul, God! let me take it! 

The King. [To Valeria.] 

Come hither, child. 

[Valeria, led by the Prince, approaches and kneels before him. ] 

Be true, as she was true! 
Be steadfast. Seek for peace within thy soul — 
It will not meet thee in the arms of power. 
Trust not the sylvan spirit of unrest 
That calls thee from the past. Thy golden hour 
Is fled. No more canst thou be Nature's guest, 
For Life has beckoned to thee, and has poured 
Her riches in thy lap, and whispered thee 
Her luring mysteries. Remember not, 
Seek not, but walk straight on in thankfulness, 
Trusting thy joy to God. So shalt thou be 
Queen of thy soul, that long has idly roved 
The slave of every wind. So shall thy reign 
Make brave men strong. 

yaleria. 

O sire, I have been rash, 
But not ungrateful. In this embassy 
From my domain to yours my heart shall bear 
The treasures of art's kingdom for a dower, 
But my allegiance is to yours forever. 

6* 85 



The Prince. 
Heaven make me worthy ol thee 

Valeria . 

I know not why thou lov'st me. 

The Prince. 

Shall prove my constancy. 



Mock me not 



Happy years 



[At the King's command above — " Bid the great host advance" 
— the crowd begins to file out, led by the soldiers and dancing 
maidens, who softly take up their old refrain. Then the officers 
and people of the court leave more informally to mount and 
form outside, followed by Liperata and Tora, and then by the 
Prince and Valeria. During the gradual exit the following 
scene occurs at the front of the stage.] 



Florimond. [Turning to follow — aside. ] 

Ambitious puppet ! 
She Ml wish her soul in hell ere all is done. 

The King. 
Cardinal, I am loath to leave you. Count, 
Attend our noble guest, and from the tower 
Show him the spectacle. 

Florimond. 

One word, my king. 
The prince has stolen the jewel of my heart — 
86 



1 cannot see him wear it. Let me go! 

Let me not sour his joy with jealous thoughts. 

The world is wide to roam in, and afar 

My soul shall find content. Deny me not 

A little time to purge away this grief 

That stains my friendship with disloyalty. 

The King. 
Is love so grave a thing to you as well? 
Yes — you shall have the passports. See the world, 
And bring us news of it. 

Florimond. 

When 1 return 

A heart reborn to freedom and true faith 

Shall thank you fitly. 

[Exit the King and train; and, at a sign from Florimond, the 
followers of the Cardinal.] 

1 am yours. This hour 

My soul is turned to steel. 

Carclhial. 

A Vancua ! 

Florimond. 
I shall not stand agam upon this ground 
Till I can throttle them. We will go hence — 
To-morrow be it ! He has granted me 
87 



Arms for his ruin. From the distant hills 
Freedom shall call her forces. When these tyrants 
Walk most securely under azure skies 
A storm shall burst upon them, and my hand 
Shall hurl the thunderbolt against their throne. 

Cardinal. 
1 hear thy father's voice in thine again. 
Swift be the blessed march of liberty ! 

[Curtain,^ 



ACT 111 

[Scene. — The antechamber of the Princess Valeria. Enter the 
Captain of the King's Guards with Florimond, who is soiled and 
stained with travel. Three months elapse between Acts 11. 
and III.] 

Captain. 
You are too bold, my lord. 

Florimond. 

What should 1 fear ? 
This is a house of bats. The rising sun 
But strikes them blind. 

Captain. 

The sun iias not yet risen, 
And they are on the watch. Why did you come 
When any messenger would do as well ? 



Florimond. 
To be of use, Rinaldo. Do not fret. 
1 have seen the king and sugared him with words 
Till his soul soaks in sweet content. Besides, 
91 



He is a phantom ; who would toach me now 
At his command? 

Captain. 

Not I, my lord. And yet 
Are we prepared for disobedience? 

Florimond. 
To the last banner. Not a man but knows 
His part in the play, and strains his eager ear 
To catch the first glad call of liberty. 

Captain. 
And when will she awake? 

Florimond. 

To-morrow night. 
I come to give the signal. 

Captain. 

God be thanked ! 
T is worth a score of years of servitude 
To feel the breath of freedom once again. 

Florimond. 
To-morrow is our blessed patron's feast, 
And Count Leone's wedding-day as well. 
92 



The city will be thronged, and with the crowd, 

Like a fleet shadow at the heels of joy. 

Our people will assemble; and at night, 

When revels have grown drunk, one word from me 

Will end this farce with fire. 

Captain. 

But are you sure 
The citizens are ours? Prince Andrea 
Has won them by the very candor of 
His tyrannous force. 

Florimond. 

1 will dispose of him — 
He will not vex us when the moment comes. 
And for the citizens, my name alone 
Has been their talisman for centuries. 
What is this prince that he should charm away 
A nation's soul? A Vancua need but whistle 
To wake the mighty goddess slumbering here, 
Her head upon our hills. When she doth rise 
The past will shine again deep in her eyes — 
And woe to those who see the lightnings there ! 

Captain. 
\ vowed to give my slave-born children back 
The heritage we lost. My hand is yours — 
For life or death. 

93 



Florimond, [ Hearing footsteps without. ] 

The count was long my friend, 
His bride too long my enemy — and yet 
I think she loved me well, save with her tongue. 

[Enter Tora and Piera.] 

Pier a. 
The Count of Vancua ! Is he still alive, 
And talking still? 

Florimond. 
Close to his end, my lady. 
He lingers but a day — his tongue will rot 
When you are married. 

Tora. 

Welcome, truant friend. 
How we have longed for you ! 

Florimond. 

To-morrow's bride 
Desired my pardon for past cruelty ? 

Piera. 
Ah, no! Your thanks for many a priceless truth. 

Florimond. 
You have them — you shall have your will to-day, 
To the last sting. But I beseech your grace 

94 



For tin's unworthy livery. The slave 

Of two such lovely ladies lives in heaven — 

No stains of earth should soil him. Let me go; 

1 am not fit to kiss a lady's hand, 

White as the rapture we invoke for her. 

Pier a. 
Ah, count, if all the hapless world to-night 
Might be as glad as 1 ! 1 shall rejoice 
Through all my joy to see you here to-morrow. 
Good-night ! 

Tor a. 

You are the capstone of our hopes. 

Florimond. 
More eager in your service than the king's. 

[Exit Florimond.] 

Tor a. 
'T is our last night, Piera; 't is the end. 
To-night we stand together on the shore ; 
To-morrow comes the shining barge of gold. 
Its captain at the rudder — all his soul 
Deep burning in his eyes, imploring thine. 
His strong arms open, and he waves afar 
Over the purple ocean shot with gold, 
Waves to the blessed islands of delight, 
Deep buried in the distant blue. And thou — 
95 



Wrapt in a robe of dreams, serene, secure, 
Thy soul glides on, and I am left alone. 

Pier a. 
Thou art the dreamer, Tora. Long ago 
We vowed our sisterhood, and registered 
Our deathless scorn of men — dost thou remember 
And longed to prove our constancy against 
The wooing of a host of suppliants. Ah ! 
I am forsworn — 1 did not know them then, 
These suitors. One has turned the heavy key 
That locked the secret chambers of my heart, 
And lo! the day pours in, and I awake, 
Who never lived before. All is more rich 
Touched by this golden sun of love. The past 
Transfigured is, not plundered. Thou art still 
The twin star of my soul. 

Tora. 

Until the dawn — 
What star can shine undimmed before the sun? 

Pier a. 
Leave me not on the wings of metaphor ! 
The stars are older than the fiery sun 
And each to other never dim. My friend, 
Talk not of change. So knitted are our souls 
We cannot disentangle all the past. 
96 



Tor a. 
Leave it to memory, in whose shadowy realm 
Grant to our love a consecrated shrine, 
And strew it with fresh thoughts when we are parted. 

Pier a. 

My sister, look at me ! What blight is this, 

Blasting our fellowship? Is marriage then 

An exile? Will the count imprison me, 

Deny me friends, feed me with poisonous doubts? 

Thou dost not think so ! Tell me then at once 

Why thou canst speak of parting. 

Tor a. 

1 must go — 
God wills it — 1 obey. 

Pier a. 

In God's name, where ? 

[Tora points to the distant convent, whose bells are even then almost 
inaudibly ringing.] 

Tora. < 

Unto a royal marriage. 

Pier a. 
Is 't resolved ? 

Tora. 
Three months have idled on since 1 resolved. 

7 97 



Pier a. 
And nothing said ? 

Tora. 

I waited but for thee — 
Thy wedding. When Leone claims his bride 
The portals of the cloister will receive me. 

Pier a. 
Hast thou no mercy on thy youth ? Dost know 
The penances, the vigils, and the fasts. 
The bare cold days, the long entombed nights, 
The endless years stretching in vista'd gloom 
Down to the grave ? Oh, hast thou thought of all ? 

Tora. 
All these are nothing. From the fires of life 
My soul has risen to heaven. I am at peace. 

Pier a. 
Ah, life is glorious — action, love, the world 
To rove in, laden with beauty and delight. 

Tora. 
Sweet be its songs to thee, its loveliest flowers 
Fall in thy lap ! For thee and thy content 
One will be praying always. 

Pier a. 

Say no more. 
Thy soul is far away — I cannot hear. 



But in my cup of joy salt tears are falling, 
And all my bridal robes are wound with black. 
Tora! 

Tora. 
My sister ! 

[They embrace] 

Pier a. 

Is it farewell indeed? 

Tora. 
Not to our love. 

[Enter the Princess Valeria.] 

Valeria. 
What! weeping, girls — my girls? 
Ah, you are wise, Piera ; 't is with tears 
A maid should think of marriage. 

Piera. 

Then am I 
Most false to maidenhood, for these my tears 
Fall on another altar. 

Valeria. 

Are you happy? 

Piera. 
In all my thoughts of the sweet time to come 
As glad as any queen — so please your highness. 

99 



Valeria. 
She does not know. [Aside.] If I could bless you now 
I would importune death to bear you hence. 

Pier a. 
What fearful thought is this ? 

Valeria. 

Ah, child, sweet child — 

Pier a. 
Nay, madam, take the measure of our years 
And mine are more than yours. 

Valeria. 

Oh, I am old — 
Old as the Apennines ! My childhood lies 
Deep at their base — too deep for memory, 
And icy age sits throned upon my brow. 
I ask you, child, what fate could be more sweet 
Than death in love's first ecstasy? 

Pier a. 

Long life 
Spent in love's service. 

Valeria. 
Be it so to you ! 
Why do you weep if all is well with you ? 

lOO 



Tor a. 

Madam, for me; my choice is nearer yours. 
Since nearer death than life. The world and I 
To-morrow shall be parted. 

Valeria. [Bowing reverently.] 

Pray for me 
When you are vowed to God. 

Tor a. 

For you, great princess ? 
Alas ! what more can you demand of God ? 

Valeria. 
Such wisdom and such happiness as yours — 
Strength to renounce ; for in that bitter word 
Wisdom and joy clasp hands in ecstasy. 

Tor a. 
You chose to read another. Love and power 
Sing in your ears, and will you envy me 
The one white thought God whispers to my soul? 
Ah, leave me that ! God knows you have enough 
To be content. 

Valeria. 
Ah yes! to me the world. 
And heaven to thee. To have or to renounce ! 
Cypress and myrtle are the wreaths of joy 
Life crowns her chosen with. Piera here 



Shall wear the myrtle ever — all my soul 

Prays heaven for that, but for the cypressed nun 

No need of prayer — her 1 congratulate. 

Tor a. 

I thought you rich, and do you envy me 
My poverty? 

yaleria. 
That soul alone is rich 
Who is content. What feasts can satisfy 
Implacable desire ? Would you be free 
Feed not the monster — kill it! I, you see, 
Can still philosophize, whom Fortune's wand 
Has tricked to splendor and to happiness. 
Still must I know what others must endure. 

Pier a. 
Princess, you live ten thousand lives in one. 
Are you not tired ? 

Valeria. 

1 cannot quite forget 
The artist in my blood. 

Pier a. 

What is an artist ? 

Valeria. 
The mirror of all souls. 



Tor a. 

Has such an one 
Herself a soul ? Ah, madam, you were right, 
And 1 will pray for you. 

yaleria. 

Ho, this is scorn ! 
Go — whisper to the ocean ; lean upon 
The shaggy breast of mountains; ride afar 
Over the soaring clouds; then multiply 
The narrow kingdom of your coward wit 
By infinite emotions and desires. 
And you shall know a little what it is 
To have an artist's soul. 

Tor a. 

May Christ in heaven 
Spare me the knowledge ! 

yaleria. 

Have no fear! not all 
His power could give it you. 

Tor a. 

Your highness — 

[Tora controls herself with an effort.] 

Pier a . 

Nay, 
Each to her happiness. Now here am I 
103 



Content with such a lean and piteous wit 
It scarce can stagger from the daily range, 
Or stutter out a question to the stars. 
Can you, who are so learned in ancient lore, 
Tell why I ignorantly smile with fortune. 
Or blindly sadden when she crosses me ? 

[Enter Prince Andrea and Count Leone.] 

Most noble lords, these ladies delve in vain 
Deep in the elements. Come, rescue them ! 

Leone. 
They are content. 'T is you need rescuing. 

Pier a. 
Ah, let me go ! This is my last of freedom — 
You would not be so thievish. 

Leone. 

1 was born 
Of a most grasping temper. 

The Prince. 

Spare him not ! 
Your power is waning — strain it to the last. 
My ladies, have you seen the wanderer. 
Our latest wedding guest ? 

Pier a. 

A moment since 
We caught him with the travel-stains upon him, 
104 



And he was so abashed he fled away 
To don his satins. 

Valeria. [Aside.] 
It is Florimond. 

The Prince. 
My heart is glad indeed ; though I, his friend, 
Might well be jealous of his enemy. 
Some strange, mad, sudden wish to see the world 
Made him a truant from my wedding ; yet 
He dares return for yours. 

Leone. 

'T is but revenge. 
He longs to see her bowed under the yoke. 

Valeria. 
Count, you would jest at death. Most noble ladies, 
Your confessors await you, and we crave 
No further talk to-night. 

Tor a. [ToPiera.] 

Ah ! God is good 
To call me hence. 

Pier a. 
Hush, child ! 

The Prince. 

Leone, 
The king desires your presence for a moment. 
105 



I '11 join you soon. Sleep well to-night, fair maiden. 
Leone shall awake you with a song. 

[Exeunt Leone, Tora, and Plera, bowing.] 

Valeria. 
When did the count return ? 

. The Prince. 

An hour ago. 
I vow thou art more royal than the heir 
Of fifty kings. Who taught thee to command ? 
I love to see thee queen it over them. 

Valeria. 
'T is not so difficult a part to play. 

The Prince. 
Yet once 1 loved thee for thy simpleness, 
Thy sweet, wild freedom from the taint of courts, 
That breed hypocrisy. 

Valeria. [Wearily.] 

Ah ! once for that, 
To-day for this, to-morrow for the other. 
Pray, can you never love me for myself? 

The Prince. 
What means my wife ? 

io6 



Valeria. 

Oh, I am not so good, 
So simple, nor so loyal as you dream. 
Your will enslaves your eyes. You see in me 
The image of your thought. You know me not. 

The Prince. 
I know your steadfast truth and gentleness. 
If there is ought beside in woman's soul 
Let me not know it ! 

Valeria. 

There is much beside 
You cannot catalogue by phrases thus. 
We range in flowery fields, 'mid changing winds, 
The skies all in an April mood for showers, 
While you would prison us in nice ideas. 
Ah, give your ixncy wings, and try to feel 
What 't is to be a woman. 

The Prince. [Embracing her.] 

What care I 
For all the women in the world but one ? 
1 cannot tell how deep is my content. 
Fear not this weight of honors — thou couldst wear 
The crown of all the Caesars on thy brow 
And not be overborne. That thou art happy 
And rescued from the sloughs of circumstance 
107 



Is joy that chokes my prayers with thankfulness. 

Strive always to be cheerful as thy fate ; 

And be not jealous if the king's affairs 

Pluck me away from thee. Even now, my sweet, 

He waits me. Strange designs must be discussed. 

Valeria. 
What strange designs ? 

The Prince. 

Lady inquisitive, 
Thou wouldst not know. Think of a song instead 
I long to hear a song when 1 return 
After my hour of penance. 

Valeria, 

Wouldst thou hear 
The caged lark sing ? 

The Prince. 

I fear thou art not well. 
I Ml send to thee some people to beguile 
Thy loneliness. 

Valeria. 
No — 1 am very well. 
I do not fear an hour of solitude. 
Go to the king. 



The Prince. 
First crown me with a kiss. 

[He kisses her. Exit the Prince. ] 

Valeria. 
Oh, when he touches me, I hate him so 
That I do fear myself. What shall I do ? 
My God ! what shall I do ? To be a wife — 
What is it but to walk in mortal shame, 
And see no shrine where plumed hope may rest 
And beckon to the soul ! If I could die — 
Like honey from the fields of liberty 
The draught of death would taste. Oh, to be free ! 
To dance once more adown the blooming roads. 
My soul all song ! To sleep beneath the stars, 
Close to the heart of Nature, and to hear 
Her whispers all alone ! To wander hence 
Back to the past — to hunger, nakedness ! 
I cannot breathe. 1 can but gnaw the chains 
That link my soul to earth forevermore — 
While Fate stands mocking me, and crying loud, 
I have fulfilled thy dreams ! Blind fool of fortune - 
Tempted by glitter, gulled by the show of power, 
Tricked by ambition into slavery. 
And dumb with my despair ! 

— ^And one has come 
Whose glance will read it all, though it be hid 
'Neath rosy heights of laughter, though I pile 



Vast clouds of happy phrases to conceal 
The burning horror at my heart. His hand 
Will touch it — he will know. 

Ah, saints in heaven ! 
If 1 could only play it to the end — 
This role I blindly chose — and be a queen 
Even over misery ! 

[Enter Florimoncl. Valeria rises and confronts him.] 

Why do you come 
Intruding on my solitude ? 

Florimond. 
Is this 
Your greeting after all the weary months ? 

yaleria. 
To-morrow 1 will welcome you. To-night 
I crave the hour alone. 





Florimond. 








Upon m> 


' soul 




I bow before you. 


yaleria. 
Count ! 

Florimond. 








This 


royal 


farce 


You play it to the life. 







Valeria. 

What right have you 
To question my commands? 

Florimond . 

Ah ! none at all. 
The man who loves you, he whose memory bears 
The record of your vows — what right has he 
To anything but scorn ? 

Valeria. 

Man, have you lived 
So long upon this earth, and never learned 
Some pages in the book of memory 
Must be erased forever ? 

Florimond. 

Woman, woman. 
Canst thou erase the pages written deep 
In heart's-blood from a wound that never heals ? 
Hast thou forgotten all ? 

Valeria. 

I will forget. 

Florimond. 
Oh, empty boast ! Who can escape the past? 
Not all thy tears through weary years of woe 
Shall wash one word away. Why should we speak 



The chatter of the court, as if my heart 
Knew not each throb of thine ? Unhappy one ! 
I cannot see thee suffer and be dumb. 
I know what thou hast done. 

Valeria. 

And if you know 
Why do you torture me ? What I have done 
I freely did. I only am to blame. 

Florimond. 
No, not to blame. Thy soul an eagle is, 
Seeking the sun. It is not strange at all 
That eyes unwonted to the light of power 
Mistook the bauble on a royal brow 
For the full orb of day. No — not to blame ! 
The tortures I have suffered in thy loss 
Urged no reproach to thee. 

Valeria. 

'T is generous ! 
Ah ! would to God the voice within my heart 
Might be as merciful ! 

Florimond. 

Think not of that! 
The past is with the dead, and like a corse 
Abhorrent to the thought. Let not thy soul 
Sink in the grave with rotten memories 



To taint the coming years. Art thou not brave ? 
Hast thou no thought beyond thine own distress ? 
The times are comfortless. A million souls 
Are longing for deliverance, and thou — 
What hast thou done ? 

Valeria. 
What do I know, my lord, 
Of the wide world beyond me ? 

Florimond. 

Wouldst thou know ? 

Valeria. 
1 faint for knowledge. 

Florimond. 

Though its cup were red 
With human blood and salt with human tears. 
Still would you drink it ? 

Valeria . 

To the dregs, my lord. 
Think you I have no pity? 

Florimond. 

Are you still 
A daughter of the people ? Though you wear 
Gaudy disguises, are you loyal still 
To the rude blood that warms you ? 
8 113 



Valeria. 

I would give 
These gauds and all 1 ever hoped of power 
For one wild dance along the grassy fields. 
All this is but the badge of slavery, 
The emblem of despair. If you can see 
A window in my prison, lead me there, 
And let me view again the mighty world 
Where I can rove no more. 

Florimond . 

Then come with me, 
And through the window of my memory 
Gaze out upon the past. What dost thou see ? 
A city, cradled on a tide-swept shore, 
Whose inf:mt ears heard from the clamorous surf. 
From salt sea-winds and thunderous mountain gales, 
But one word — liberty ! And as she grew, 
Bathing her strong free limbs in mighty seas, 
Circling o'er broad domains her puissant arms. 
That word was still the life-blood of her soul. 
And from her lovely eyes fierce lightnings flashed 
At thought of an oppressor. Year by year 
And age by age her comeliness increased. 
And every violent hand that dared assail 
She hurled to ruin, all her soul athrill 
With the fierce pride of freedom. Long she reigned. 
And all her people, gladdened by her smile. 



Wrought for her glory, till her shining hair 
Was strung with diamonds, and her spotless robe 
With pearls embroidered and with silks enriched, 
Until in splendid modesty she stood 
Peerless among the nations. Thus she was ! 
Alas ! What is she now? 

yaleria. 

Ah ! even as I — 
Wedded to misery. 

Florimond. 

Not wedded — no. 
Despoiled, shamed, outraged! Ah, the bitter tale 
They sweetened for thee. Listen to the truth. 

Valeria. 
Oh, let me know it ! 

Florimond, 

When this king was young 
He and his tribe were exiled for their crimes — 
A violent faction, who had dashed with blood 
The robes of liberty. For years they wandered 
Over the face of Italy, in vain 
Seeking to soothe the rigid front of justice; 
While we at home basked in the noon of peace, 
Busy with dreams, blind summer slumberers. 
At last a cloud came thundering from the north; 



A military chief — soldier of fortune — 

Hung cities on his sword-belt, as a thief 

Slips jewels in his pocket, till his arm 

Threatened our citadel inviolate. 

Then we awoke into a strange eclipse. 

And, mad with fear, we called our exiles home 

To fight the foreign foe. The call rang forth 

And roused them from despair. With sword and spear 

O'er hills and seas they came, and ranged their strength 

Under the banner which my father bore — 

The state's appointed captain. 

But their aid 
Was needless, for the threatening despot died. 
And the fantastic structure of his power 
Fell like a summer dream. 

When all was safe 
Within the city's walls flashed up once more 
O'ershadowed memory, and the bloody past 
Rose like a ghost, with hand omnipotent 
Closing the clanging gates, and hurling thence 
A new decree of banishment against 
The gathered host of exiled wanderers. 

yaleria. 
Pitiless mother! could she not forgive 
Her sons who came to save ? 

Florimond. 

Who came to save ! 
Nay, to devour! Ruin was in their hearts — 

ii6 



The savage hearts of traitors. To their arms 

Nothing she owed, for not a sword was flushed 

When death struck down the foe. Yet some abhorred 

Even the suspicion of a stain, and pleaded 

For their admission. Lo ! even while they prayed 

Swift as a rocket sprang the signal forth, 

And war was at our doors. All Italy 

Was roused or cowed by the arch mischief-breeder, 

And wrought for our despair, or stood agape 

While the inviolate city he had sworn 

To cherish and defend he stripped and plundered 

Of every rag of honor. 

Valeria. 
'T was the king ! 

Florimond. 
Ay, 't was the king, who should have died to save 
His country from a tyrant. He it was 
Who led a mob of fierce adventurers — 
The cutthroats of all nations and his own — 
Straight to his childhood's home, whose loveliness 
Long peace had garlanded, and turned them loose 
To wreak their horrid will and his revenge. 

Oh, horrible ! 

Florimond. 
Should I reveal it all — 
The story of those days so charged with crime — 
Your soul would sicken, and your heart grow old. 
8* 117 



Valeria. 
Am I not guilty too ? 'T is fit I know 
The sins I have espoused. 

Florimond. 

Notall — not all. 
One deed will be enough to prove the whole — 
The death of one old man. A gentle mind 
Was his, brave and compassionate and true. 
He pleaded for these outlaws, would have risked 
Receiving them as brothers at the hearth 
They had so wantonly profaned. 
The rack was his reward ; and when his soul 
Seemed to have vanished from its ruthless clutch 
They flung his body in the street, and mocked 
Our white-lipped agony. 

Valeria. 

And the great God 
Could watch it from his heaven ! 

Florimond. 

Beyond — beyond 
He saw the end, and planted in that deed 
The seeds of retribution ; for the life 
Pent in that form, torn, mangled, piteous, 
Sprang to cold lips again, breathed fiery words 
No mortal soul could hear and disobey. 
And at the last, when death drooped over him, 



He smiled, for his ancestral legacy — 

The love of freedom, and the hate of wrong — 

His son had vowed to vindicate — or die. 

Valeria. 
And you are he. 

Florimond. 
'T was I who made that vow, 

yaleria. 
And you have lived so long without revenge. 

Florimond. 
Revenge which will be sure must needs be slow. 
The time has come. 

Valeria. 

The method and the means- 
Tell me, I must know all. 

F/on'iiwtid. 

Will you be strong ? 

Valeria. 
As strong as death. 

Florimond. 

Do you love liberty? 

Valeria. 
I — liberty? You who have seen me free — 
You ask me that ? 



Florimond. 
Would you for liberty, 
The freedom of a million souls enslaved, 
Strike one brave blow, risk one soft luxury 
Of praise or pleasure, or of peaceful days ? 

Valeria. 
I would give all ! What can she ask of me 
I would not proudly grant ? 

Florimond. 

Then her demand 
Will be your law ? 

Valeria. 
I swear it. Would to God 
That I could free the world ! 

Florimond. 

This guilty race 
Must die. 

Valeria. 
And is the other guilty too — 
My husband ? 

Florimond. 
When the streets ran red with blood, 
Almost a child he stood beside his father 
Cheering and urging on the murderous work — 
A frenzied fiend of impious energy. 



In him the crimes of future years are lodged. 
And shall he live ? You who have felt the bonds, 
Can aught but death level his jagged will ? 

Valeria. 
My soul is on the rack beneath it, yet 
There seems in him a kind of innocence — 
As who should stroke a bird that longs to fly, 
And dream it loves the touch. 

Florimond. 

There lies the peril. 
Craft we can meet, but such simplicity 
Is like a gag choking our weary groans 
Till the world deems our silence happiness. 
His soul breathes incense as its natural air. 
The state is on the rack, yet in his mind 
She rests upon a bed of violets, 
Dreaming of naught but love and gratitude. 
Himself is in his eye, and all the world 
Is but his shadow. He is the enemy. 
When he is dead freedom will rise again 
Fearless and strong. She does not dread the king. 

Valeria. 
How shall he die ? 

Florimond. 
Dear lady, 't is to you 
The stricken city calls. Insulted justice 



Arms you for her revenge. I have a weapon, 
Petty yet potent. 

[He drops a pellet into a cup on the table, and fills it with wine 
from a vessel standing near. ] 

When the prince comes back 
Give him this golden wine. He will not feel \i. 
Pain will not touch nor frenzy torture him, 
And death will give no sign for many hours; 
Yet when this time to-morrow shall have rung 
He will exist no more. 

Valeria . 
— Exist no more — 
There is no other way — it must be done? 

Florimond. 
For God and liberty. 

Valeria. 

And wheti 't is done 
Will all be over? 

Florimond. 
The people are in arms, 
And we will fight for it. To-morrow night 
The city shall be free. 

Valeria. 
Have they no friends — 
They who were once so strong? Was he not crowned 
By suffrage of the people? 



Florimond. 

You have heard it — 
Their treacherous boast ! Perchance there was a day 
When fear went mad, and bought security 
With shame. The knife was at the city's throat, 
But far away the fields were clad in blue — 
The future smiled redemption, and she looked. 
And could not die. But she remembers well, 
And for the past to-morrow will atone. 

Valeria. 
And we shall all be free forevermore. 

Florimond. 
Sweet is the sacred wrath of Liberty — 
Lovely her flaming eyes ! But sweeter far 
Her tenderness for those who serve her well. 
The noblest sons of time have writ their names 
In stars about her brow, and with them now 
Thine own will shine forever. 

Valeria. 

I could die 
To be enshrined in the world's love forever. 
1 would fear nothing, suffer everything. 

Florimond. 
1 know it, and I trust thee. 

[Enter Prince Andrea, a bloody sword in his hand.] 
123 



The Prince. 

He is dead — 
The slanderer ! 

Valeria. 
What means this bloody sword? 

The Prince. 
He slandered thee, and so 1 struck him dead. 



Who slandered me ? 



Valeria. 

The Prince. 
Leone. 



Valeria. 

And you killed him? 

The Prince. 
Listen ! he said you were conspiring here — 
My wife, my friend ! — conspiring for my death. 
'T is false ! and he is dead. 

He dared to say it — 
No man can whisper such a calumny 
And stand against my sword! — he told me there 
The wine was poisoned — 't is a damned lie ! 

[He suddenly seizes the cup. Valeria makes a motion to arrest him, 
but he drains it instantly.] 

Now is the slander dead, and gone to hell ! 

[Valeria falls to the ground, and embraces his feet. ] 
124 



yaleria. 
My husband ! 

The Prince. 
Oh, my wife ! that he should say it ! 
What could 1 do but kill him ? 

[Curtain.]^ 



ACT IV 

Scene. — Same as Act III. Enter in great excitement Agnolo and 
Filippo. 

Agnolo. 
Who is the assassin? 

Filippo. 

Who can name him now? 
The Count Leone had no enemies. 

Agnolo. 
I loved him ! I would give this my right hand 
To know the dastard who has struck him down. 
The awful days are come again, when hate 
Hides in a dirk and dares not wield a sword ; 
When every friend may be an enemy, 
And every cup a lurking-place for death. 



Filippo. 
Ah, nevermore ! The king will know the truth 
And punish, as of old. 'T was 1 who told him - 
1 know it by the fury in his eyes. 
9 129 



Agnolo. 
I told the unhappy lady who should be 
His bride to-day. 1 roused her from her sleep, 
And told her they had found her lover dead, 
Wishing that I were buried with my news. 

Filippo. 
Poor lady, did she weep? 

/igiioJo. 

Her eyes were dry, 
Her face white as a shroud. She said no word. 
But followed to his bier, where now she clings 
JVloaning and fondling him. It maddens me ! 

Filippo. 
Be calm, and trust the king. High in the state 
Was the dead count, Prince Andrea's cherished friend. 
His death will be avenged. 

Agnolo. 

Look where she comes ! 

That face of hers will haunt me in my dreams. 

Come — let us go. 

[Exeunt Agnolo and Filippo. Enter Tora and Piera, the latter 
passive in her friend's hands.] 

Tora. 
Piera, speak to me ! 
Is there no comfort in the tears of God 
That thou shouldst be so still ? 



Pier a. 

There 's naught to say. 

Torj. 
There 's death to mourn, justice to be invoked. 

Pier a. 
Justice ! How can they give nie justice now, 
When he is dead ? 

Tor a. 
Against the coward hand 
That murdered him wilt thou not cry aloud? 
[Aside.] My brain is branded with a name; mine eyes 
Can see naught else — it is Valeri;i ! 
Somewhere — I know not how — her finger lies 
Under this mischief; I would stake my soul, 
So sure am I ! [To Piera.] Shall the assassin live ? 

Pier a. 
If they could steep his impious soul in blood 
Would that restore my husband to my arms ? 
There is no justice in the courts of heaven 
Or he would not have died. 

Tor a. 

Poor soul of woman ! 
Wilt thou assail the Omnipotent, and dream 
The universe has wandered from its course 
To thwart thy love ? Others have lived and died 
And suffered, and the long procession moves 



Inexorably on. When thou art dust 

God's lips will scarce have sipped the eternal years 

Of justice. 

Pier a. 
If the sword that murdered him 
Had sought my heart as well, I would have blessed it, 
And called the stroke my marriage to my love. 
If but to-day had passed, and I were his, 
And then the blow had fallen, I could have seen 
Some mercy in it. But to lose him now 
Without a word, to dream away the hours 
While he was lying cold — ah, verily 
I am an exile from the love of God ; 
The saints to whom I prayed are impotent ! 

Tor a. 
Hast thou forgot that 't is thy wedding-day? 
Is this a time for blasphemous despair ? 

Pier a. 
In all the world what now is left for me ? 

Tor a. 
For thee is light or darkness, for the path 
Of sorrow leads to both. A million saints 
Have found such glory at the end of it 
As passes happiness; but for the weak — 
It lures them to the pit. Thy lord was brave, 
132 



And wilt thou be a coward ? Duty was 
His guiding star. Wouldst thou be true to him 
If thou shouldst fail to do thy part in the world, 
Listening humbly to the voice of God? 

Pier a. 
What shall I do ? I am alone — alone, 
My sister. 

Tor a. 
So — 't is good that thou shouldst weep. 
Tears are God's dew for sorrow — let them fall ! 
Richer than pearls are they, more potent far 
Than minted gold. Weep on, but when thou hast done 
Let wrath possess thy soul. 

Piera. 

In God's name, whom 
Dost thou suspect ? 

Tor a. 
If that pernicious soul 
Who clamors for suspicion in my brain 
Know aught of this, the tortures of the damned 
Would be light punishment. 

Piera. 

Ah, pity me ! 
Who is it ? In this woful labyrinth 
Give me some clue. 

9* 133 



Tora. 

I will not sleep for searching. 
It is not fit 1 speak without the proof; 
The thought is but a cobweb in my mind. 
Let me but find a thread slight as a hair 
And it is yours. 

Pier a. 
To whom shall I appeal 
If you deny me ? 

[Enter the King. Piera falls, sobbing, to her knees at his feet.] 

Sire! 

The King. 

Nay, child — I know. 
This damned news has stabbed me to the soul. 
Poor bride ! poor lady ! Have I any power 
To give you comfort ? 

Piera. 
Give me death or justice — 
Both, if you can be merciful! 

The King. 

This deed 
Shall be avenged— I swear it by the cross, 
And by the sacred blood of all the saints. 

Piera. 
He was so kind ! 

134 



The King. 
Not ours a reign of fear — 
Hate armed with murder sheathed in secrecy. 
The old mad doom of Italy is ours 
If order be enslaved. Thy murdered lord 
Was dearest in our love, and shall he now 
Die like a rat here in our very halls, 
And his assassin live ? 

[Enter Florimond, unperceived. ] 

That wide-mouthed wound 
Shall not appeal in vain. Trust to the state, 
Essay no private stroke for his revenge, 
And we will know the truth, and the red hand 
That struck him down shall follow to the grave : 
I promise it. 

Florimond. [Advancing.] 

Most righteous is the word. 
Dear lady, I can long for nothing now 
Except to serve thee. 

Pier a. [ToTora.] 

Take me back to him — 
My husband ! 

Tor a. 
Then the guilty all must die, 
Whoever they may be ? 

135 



The King. 

Have I not sworn it ? 

Tor a. 
Amen ! May Christ have mercy on the souls 
Of all of us ! 

[Exeunt Tora and Piera.] 

The King. 
What enemies had he, 
Or private quarrels that we knew not of? 

Florimond. 
I never knew a creature better loved. 
He had a thousand friends, but not a foe — 
Or so 1 thought ; yet I know naught of him 
These many months. 

The King. 

Arouse Prince Andrea, 
And say we wish to speak with him. 

[Exit Florimond by a side door; he is heard clamoring without] 

Florimond. 

My lord ! 
Come forth ! the king desires you — wake, my lord! 

The King. 
Is it in vain that I have planned and toiled, 
And struck great blows for punishment, to give 

136 



Laws to my country, and to make her strong 

Under the rule of order? Must I now 

See feuds grow fierce and know not where to strike ? 

I will not suffer it. The state shall know 

And punish, that revenge may be disarmed, 

And the great house whereof he was the head 

Fail not in loyalty. 

[Enter Florimond and Prince Andrea, by the side door. As they 
enter Florimond speaks aside to the Prince. J 

Florimond. 
Fear no betrayal 
From me, my lord, i have not said a word. 

The Prince. 
What should 1 fear? 

[Florimond bows himself out, but returns imobserved to a sheltered 
nook at the rear, where he remains during the following 
dialogue. ] 

The King. 

Advise me, Andrea. 
You know this news ? 

The Prince. 

Leone's death ? I know it. 

The King. 
What shall we do ? A crime so infamous 
Cannot be fitly punished. Stabbed to death 

137 



Upon his wedding-morning — one so true, 
Whose house was always loyal to our rule — 
Our noblest subject and our dearest friend. 
The vile assassin who has robbed us of him 
Shall die a thousand deaths. 

The Prince. 

Your tongue 's a fool! 
1 killed him — 1! 

The King. 
You killed him ! 

The Prince. 

It was I ! 
Will you not hear ? 1 killed him like a dog ! 
Thank God that he is dead ! 

The King. 

Why did you kill him ? 

The Prince. 
My reason was sufficient. He deserved 
The furnace or the rack. 

The King. 

What was your reason ? 

The Prince. 
Are you not satisfied ? I say 't was good, 
And more 1 will not say. 

138 



The King. 

By heaven, you will ! 
Or the black question shall extort the truth. 

The Prince. 
Am I afraid ? God ! this is dangerous ! 
My tongue is mine, to wag it as 1 will. 
The torture will not move it. 

The King. 

I have sworn 
Leone's murderer shall follow him 
Down to the grave. I swore it by the cross, 
An.d by the sacred blood of all the saints. 
His virgin-widow's tears shall be avenged. 
Give me the cause that I may fix the guilt 
Where it should be, or by my oath in heaven 
Your head shall suffer. 

The Prince. 

All the guilt is mine. 
None aided, none conspired. I struck him dead 
With this my sword. Do as you will with me. 

The King. 
Oh, this is death ! Andrea, my son, my son ! 
Wilt thou not tell me ? Surely it was grave. 
Thy cause for such a deed. Reveal it all, 
139 



And I will warrant thee against the world, 
And crave the Holy Father on my knees 
To free me of my vow. 

The Prince. 

Fulfil it, rather. 
I do not fear to die. My youth has passed 
Over a lovely country flecked with flowers. 
What time more fitting for the swoop of death, 
Ere yet the skies grow dull, and the bleak wastes 
Stretch nightward round my soul ? Fulfil thy vow, 
And I will bless thee that my day of joy 
Shall have no night of sorrow. 

The King. 

Andrea ! 
Hast thou forgot our love ? Hast thou forgot 
The day thy mother died ? She bade us live 
As friends and brothers — knitted soul to soul. 
Even as in marriage — and we pledged it there. 
We have been one in thought, and shall this specter 
Rise like a blight between us ? Tell me all. 
When have I failed thee ? If this blow was thine 
Why then 't is mine as well. If thou hast suffered 
My heart is rived an hundred-fold. My son. 
Canst thou not trust me ? 

I have yielded oft 
My will to thine. When thou wast but a child 
140 



And the great house of Vancua was doomed, 
I saved its youngest heir to be thy friend 
Because thy heart was moved to pity him. 
When thou didst name the woman of thy love 
I suffered thee to wed her, though the state 
And all the world opposed me; and my heart 
Has claimed her as mine own. 

The Prince. 

He slandered her — 
It was for that I killed him. When I left you . 
He stood beside that door and whispered me 
A most abusive tale — of her, my wife. 
And Florimond, my friend. Conspiracy, 
Murder, and poison were its elements. 
I smote him with my sword. You would have done 
The same, if you had heard. ! struck him down, 
Walked in upon his fell conspirators. 
And drank the wine he warned me of — and see — 
I am not dead ! 

The King. [Aside.] 

And thus thy day of joy 

Shall have no night of sorrow. God in heaven. 

Thou dost fulfil my vow. 

The Prince. 

1 am the son 
Of one who held the honor of his wife 
141 



As sacred as the chalice of our God — 

Of one who would have scorched the impious hand 

That dared pollute the whiteness of her robe. 

If it were she whom slander had assailed, 

What would my sire have done ? 

The King. 

He would have killed. 
And thou, his son and hers, couldst do no less. 

The Prince. 
Thank God ! 

The King. 
Leone's doom was in the stars — 
God willed it. On thine uncorrupted soul 
His blood shall never rest ! 

The Prince. 

May scorn and wrath 
Part us no more ! Now could I die for thee — 
For thy rash vow. 

[The Prince is seized with a spasm, under which he sinks to a 
couch, writhing in pain and unconscious. The King stands 
over him.] 

The King. 
It is the Persian poison — 
Do I not know it ? Death has clutched him now 
With one red hand — perchance to play with him 
142 



And toss him back to life. Mother of Christ! 

If I have ever served thee for an hour, 

Rend him one hour from death ! Oh, give him back 

Ere the dark v^ings fold blinding over him 

For all eternity ! 

The doom has fallen. 
The structure 1 have builded is aflame. 
Falling to ashes. I can work no more. 
I, who destroyed that we might build anew, 
Am met by the destroyer, and my dream 
Of union for discordant Italy, 
Whose soul was once the empire of the world, 
Lies here in ruins. Deadly Italy! 
Thou sepulcher of nations, on whose portal 
Curses are writ for hope, and sneers for love. 
Whose shrine is strewn with bones and dashed with 

blood 
Of heroes numberless, how long, how long 
Must thy sons die for thee, and die in vain ! 
Where is thy throne, where is thy regal crown 
Among the nations? Buried deep in shame. 
Where thou liest sunken in a sullen sleep. 
We call thee, and our cries thou wilt not hear — 
We draw thy sword, yet cannot rouse thy soul. 
Beware lest thou awake to slavery — 
Lest the barbarian kings descend on thee 
And bind thy fatal loveliness in chains ! 

[The Prince quietly recovers consciousness, and rises.] 
143 



The Prince. 
What is there ill with me ? 

The King. 

Nay, all is well 
With thee, my son. 

The Prince. 

Such dizziness 1 feel — 

The King. 
Lean here a moment — it will pass away. 
We will go talk together — thou and 1. 
Strange dreams of death and life came to my sleep 
Last night. We '11 talk of them, and for an hour 
Forget that we are kings — insatiate 
Breeders of nations, conquerors of strife. 

The Prince. 
Strange counsel ! Thou wouldst have me for an hour 
Forget my destiny ! Is this my father ? 

The King. 

« 
Come, we will go and look upon the sea — 

The sea is blue to-day. 

The Prince. 

What was thy dream ? 

[Exeunt the King and the Prince. Florimond advances unperceived. ] 

144 



Florimond. 
He knows the truth, and when the prince is dead, 
What death too hideous for us? Farewell, 
My noble patron ! When we meet again 
I Ml greet thee like a Vancua, and claim 
A reckoning for the past. Most noble lady, 

[Calling softly at the side-door.] 

Open to me, for 1 have news indeed. 

[Valeria opens the door and appears.] 

The king knows all, and thou must flee with me 
From his revenge. 

Valeria. 

The night is over now. 
1 have a thing or two to say to thee, 
And then may the God of mercy and of love 
Grant I may never see thy face again 
In this world or the next. 

Florimond. 

Valeria ! 
Speak not, but hear me ! He has told him all, 
And through his wrathful innocence the king 
Has read the truth. The instant of his death 
Will be our doom. 

Valeria. 
So be it ! 

lo 145 



Florimond. 

What say'st thou ? 
Hast thou grown mad ? 

Valeria. 
No — no ! Once I was mad, 
But one fierce moment wrapped my soul in flame 
And it was purged. 

Florimond. 

Dost thou not understand 
'T is death to linger here ? If they should spare thee 
Our retribution could not, for to-night 
The infuriate mob will slip the tyrant's leash — 
This hated race will perish, and these halls 
Will be chastised with fire. To-morrow morn 
Thou shalt awake to happiness and power 
If thou but dash these vague misgivings down 
And go with me. 

Valeria. 
There is no happiness 
This side the grave for me. The arms of power 
I can but wield awry. Go — let me die — 
'T is only in my shroud I shall be safe. 

Florimond. 
Sweet lady, there are many million years 
Beyond this day's despair. Full well I know 
146 



That from the tense strain of a mighty deed 

The soul recoils to agonies of doubt. 

Thy mind has leaped the centuries, and dared 

A stroke for fate and immortality, 

And now black clouds envelop thee. Be brave — 

They cannot linger long ; soon thou shalt see 

Visions of glory and delight once more. 

Hast thou forgot our love ? 

yaJeria. 

Beware of me ! 
I have been patient long, but when thou speak'st 
That word, I long to blast thee with a breath. 
I never loved thee, and with all my soul 
1 do despise thee now. 

Fhrimond. 

How dar'st thou tell 
These lies to me ? 

A noble patriot — 
Who prates of fate and immortality 
And love all in a breath ! For which of these 
Was murder done? Was it for liberty, 
God, and the people that we poisoned him ? 
So said'st thou, and the spell was over me. 
And 1 believed. Or was it for revenge, 
The satisfaction of our secret hate. 



That we destroyed this hero — I, his wife, 
And thou, his friend ? 

Florimond. 

Art thou so mean a thing — 
A poor, weak woman after all ? Alas ! 
I was a fool to trust thee, to believe 
Thy soul roused to great issues. Yesternight 
I found thee starved, caged, shrunken, in despair. 
I showed thee all the world, and a great cause 
To live and die for, and methought I found 
A man's brain wielded by a woman's zeal, 
A child of liberty, who laid her head 
Upon her mother's breast, and wept for joy 
That she could serve her. Canst thou in a night 
Forswear thine ancestry, and fill thy veins 
With tyrant's blood ? 

Valeria. 

God ! is it but a night 
That I have lived since then ? 'T was long enough 
For the wide world to age in, long enough 
To learn that naught in all the universe 
Is half so precious as a stainless soul. 

Florimond. 
Unsullied was thy soul until this hour. 
To free a million by the death of one — 

148 



'T is to be pure like fire, and brave like steel. 

The narrow standards of the past will bind 

Free minds no more. A new philosophy 

Widens the bounds of virtue, tears away 

The lean monk's blinding cowl, and dares reveal 

The beauty and the glory of this world 

Priests have so long defamed and kings despoiled. 

The sword of justice must reclaim for man 

His stolen heritage. That sword was thine. 

Thy deed might be the halo of a saint, 

So holy was it. Italy is cursed 

With many tyrants. When the last has fallen. 

And she stands free beneath her glowing skies. 

Such strokes will shine like jewels in the crown 

Of her redemption. 

yaleria. 
Let me prophesy ! 
The mantle of the seer becomes thee not. 
Not thus will Italy be saved. Her vice 
Will never thus redeem her from her shame. 
Though murder grow as trite as tyranny 
And treachery as custom-stale as hate, 
Her doom will speed the faster. It is writ 
That sin brings punishment, and years of woe 
Must follow years of wrath. For times like these 
Long centuries of penance shall unroll 
Ere Italy be worthy to be free. 



Florimond. 
The future is thy kingdom, prophetess. 

Valeria. 
Be warned then — flee! Man cannot baffle God. 
Thy hope is doomed — the blight of greed is in it. 
Though ruin sweep a road wide as the sea 
Thou shalt not touch the goal of thy desire. 

Florimond. 
By all the saints ! you have communed with fate 
Since last 1 saw you. 

yaleria. 
'T is most true, indeed. 
My life has known despair and misery. 
And blessed hope and moments of high joy, 
And thirst, and longing, and the love of truth; 
But in that instant when my husband drained 
Our cup of death, it knew them all forever. 
The past rose over me in rolling waves 
Of mighty memories. I saw the truth, 
And took her hand again, and all was clear. 
And through the endless watches of this night 
1 sat communing with her face to face, 
While he whose ill-starred love we had betrayed 
Slept his last hours away. My soul is armed 
150 



Against thee now. The spell inscrutable 

That made my mind thy slave dissolves in light, 

And I am free. 

Florimond. 

This is thy gratitude ! 
The love of many years, the zealous service 
In spite of bitter perfidy, the long 
Devotion to a dream, the dear desire 
To crown one thwarted life with happiness; 
A great cause risked, and death defied — all these 
Are scorn to thee ! 

Valeria. 
Speak'st thou of gratitude ? 
That theme is not at home upon thy lips. 
I seem to hear my husband say those words. 
He gave me all — 't is late for gratitude. 
Now that my thankless hand has stolen all 
From him ; yet I will give it, and be true 
From now until the end. 

Florimond. 

He has not changed. 
If all were as before, if he could live 
And play the king forever, he would be 
Insufferable still to thy free soul 
As he was yesterday. 



Valeria. 

What boots it now ? 
Our hands and destiny have brushed away 
That problem. If I cannot live with him, 
Then i will die with him. 

Florimofid. 

Insensate thing ! 
Know'st thou what thou invokest? 

Valeria. 

Death. 

Florimond. 

Ay, death. 
But not the soft embrace of perfumed peace, 
A bower of poppies where the soul may sink 
Into eternal rest, where holy thoughts 
May fan away all stinging memories, 
And lull the baffled spirit into dreams 
Of infinite fulfilment — not to thee 
Will death come thus, if thou demand it now. 
Disgrace, a public doom and punishment, 
The torture, and a lingering agony 
Men pale to think of, madden to endure, 
Will lead thee to the grave. 

Valeria. 

And through the pain 
I shall behold innumerable years 
152 



Thronging the spaces of eternity, 

And hear the song of rapture from afar. 

Florimond. 
Impalpable creation of a dream, 

What wouldstthou do? Think, if the power of thought 
Lives in the filmy chambers of thy brain. 
Behind, disaster; and before thee, shame; 
And dim oblivion beyond — a world 
Unpeopled, save in wild imaginings 
Of maddened zealots, unexplored and dire. 
Take the bright cup of life, full to the brim. 
And go with me. 

Valeria. 
The voices in my ear 
Are sweeter far than thine. They offer me 
A whole eternity of joy within 
Life's little minute that is left to me. 
What matters immortality ? My soul 
Feels the wide winds, lives in the quenchless light 
For one swift hour. Eternity could do 
No more. Whether this death be death indeed, 
Or but the portal to a nobler life, 
I am content to die. 

Florimond. 

These vaporings — 
Thou baffling demon of perversity — 
These shall not balk me. 1 will have thee yet — 

[Tries to seize her. ] 
153 



Valeria. 
Thou shalt not touch me ! I have done with thee 
Forever ! 

Florimond. 
Wilt thou make me mad as thou ? 
I love thee — dost thou hear ? Thou murderous woman, 
If the red blood upon thy hand were mine 
Still would I love thee. 

Valeria. 
Wilt thou prove my words 
Already ? 

Florimond. 
Thou wast mine — my twin — my queen. 
Our troth was registered in hell, and sealed 
In blood. Thou canst not leave me in the lurch, 
And die with fine words on thy lips. 

Valeria. 

And this 
Is the deliverer ! Speak to me no more ! 

[The marching of armed men is heard without.] 

Florimond. 
Hear'st thou that sound ? Now shalt thou choose in- 
deed. 
'T is the king's guard, coming to lead us hence 
To his tribunal. Choose — their arms or mine. 



I shall escape — some of them are my friends. 
Let me but clasp thee, and thou too art safe. 
Life, and the world to reign in, and the love 
Of one who reads the secrets of thy soul, 
-Of one whose heart is but an instrument 
Tuned to thy finest measures. Come to me — 
The old Valeria 1 knew of yore. 

yaleria. 
\ know thee not. My soul is winged for God, 
And has forgotten thee forevermore. 

[Enter the King's Guards.] 

Captain, 
In the king's name I do arrest ye both. 

yaleria. 
God bless you for it ! 

Florimond. 

Woman, thou hast been 
Destructive as a pest, false as a lure. 

yaleria. 
There is no sin that cannot be redeemed. 

[Florimond feigns a few desperate sword-thrusts, and escapes. 
Valeria yields herself, and is borne away.] 

[Curtain.] 

IS5 



ACT V 

Scene. — Same as Act II. Enter the Captain of the Guards with 
nearly half the guardsmen, and a few courtiers, including 
Filippo. 

Captain. 
Great deeds are on the wing. We must prepare. 
The long night gladdens to the dawn, and now 
Day's harbingers awake and sing. My friends, 
The prince is dying. 

Filippo. 

Thus the enemies 
Of liberty must perish ! 

[Some make signs of joy; some receive the news with awe- 
stricken silence.] 



Captain. 

Not a man 
Shall fail in duty. Each depends on all. 
And all on each. Will you be faithful, friends ? 
And is all ready for the sacred hour? 



Guardsmen. 
We swear it ! 

Others. 
Put us to the proof ! 

Captain. 

[To Filippo, whom he gradually draws away.] 

My lord, 
Go to the count. Bid him not wait an hour. 
The king has sent us here to the hall of justice, 
And bade us open wide the doors. Bid him 
Send in his people with the rabble. Say 
The princess lies in chains since his escape ; 
The king has heard — I know not what — but 't is 
Some echo of the truth. It is not safe 
To wait until to-night — to give him time 
To arm, and guard, and save himself, and balk 
Our dear revenge. Now that the prince is dead 
We need fear nothing. 

Filippo. 

Dying, but not dead. 
'T was neatly done, but 't is not finished yet. 

Captain. 
I saw him lying breathless — 

Filippo. 

Yes, I know, 
But 't is a tricky poison — Vancua 

i6o 



Ought to have used a speedier. And his ruse 
Did not deceive the king, who knows too well 
The scope of all the poisons. 

Captain. 

Yet it kills— 

Filippo. 
Oh, surely. But he may survive this spasm ; 
The first is seldom fatal. 

Captain. 

'T is the second. 

Filippo. 
Indeed ! He is well-nigh safe then. Yet 1 know 
My father had a cousin lived through two 
And died not till the third. 

Captain. 

What difference? 
He cannot harm us now. Go to the count — 
Tell him how all things stand, and bid him haste. 
We will await his bugle. 

Filippo. 

1 am gone. 
When next we meet — 

Captain. 

No throne will shadow us. 

[Exit Filippo. The Captain goes to the door and blows three 

short blasts on his bugle.] 
II i6i 



Go you, Bernardo, bid them ring the bell 
That calls the people hither. You, my friends, 

[Addressing six of the guardsmen.] 

My six stanch brothers, open with this key 

The great bronze doors, and guard them. Do not fear. 

Watch for my signal ; be alert and swift. 

You that remain, stand by the throne with me. 

[Enter the rest of the Guard, one by one. They form. ] 

Take the side passage, men. You, range yourselves 
Along this wall. Now all is done, I think, 
And the king's orders are obeyed. To arms ! 

[Enter, in the people's division of the hall, certain citizens. Gradu- 
ally others come in until, by the time the King enters, a dense 
throng has assembled. ] 

First CiUi(en. 
What are we summoned for ? 

Second Citizen. 

Some war, perhaps. 
Some new town must be taken, and our trades 
Must pay the price. 

First Citizen. 

Still growling ? If the king 
Could grasp all Italy, you 'd mumble out 
That 't was not worth the handling. 
162 



Second Citi:^en. 

Well — 1 say 
Home 's good enough for me. I Ml shake no hands 
Except my friends', and share no government 
With smooth-tongued southerners. 

First Citt:(en. 

Have you no eyes ? 
Who reaps the profit of our greatness ? We. 
Would you have been as rich in little Locca ? 
Say — tell me that? 

Second Cit^en. 

Would 1 have been as rich ? 
I am the foremost blacksmith in the city. 
What has the government to do with that ? 

First Citizen. 
You are a fool ! 

Second Citizen. 
Nay — I am not a fool — 

Third Citizen. 
Have you heard the news? The Count Leone 's mur- 
dered, 
And this is for the trial. 

163 



Second Citizen. 

Leone murdered ? 
Then we shall have no wedding pageant. 

Third Citizen. 

True — 
But there will be a splendid funeral, 
And funerals are grander. 

First Citizen. 

Who is guilty? 

Third Citizen. 
How should I know ? The king will answer that. 

Second Citizen. 
See — let us take those places by the pillar. 
Come — they '11 be taken. We can see all there. 

[They pass on, and continue talking among themselves and to others 
as they come in.] 

Fourth Citizen. 
Too long have we been governed by a king — 
We Ml teach him that. 

Fifth Citizen. 

Ay — Vancua was right. 
He has spilled our blood, and drained our treasuries. 
He shall die for 't. 

164 



Fourth Citizen. 

This earth shall soak his blood. 
That he has trod as king. 

Sixth Citizen. 

Ay — king, forsooth ! 
Here where our sires were free. This upstart king, 
And the great house of Vancua 'neath his heel ! 

Fifth Citizen. 
He shall die for 't — he and his murderous son. 

Seventh Citi:^en. 
'T is strange about Leone's death. I thought 
That prince too brave to play the assassin. 

Sixth Citizen. 

Yet 
No sooner had his friend offended him 
In some slight quarrel — so said Vancua — 
Ho whips me out his sword and runs him through. 
And lies down to as sweet a night of slumber 
As if his prey had been an oyster. 

Fifth Citi:^en. 

'T is 
A tyrant, like his sire; born to it, bred to it. 
We '11 make an end to all of them. 
II* 165 



Seventh Citizen. 

Be still. 
The silken gossips of their court approach. 

[Enter, gravely and silently, several ladies and gentlemen of the 
court, all wearing mourning badges. Lastly, Liperata, Tora, 
and Piera, clad in black. They station themselves near the 
throne. During the following scene, while these converse to- 
gether in the front of the stage, people of all classes gradually fill 
the hall.] 

Third Citizen. 
Look at the bride, poor thing — that was to be. 
Troth ! she is pale. 

Second Citi:^en. 
But not a tear in the eye ! 
Faith — she should wring her hands, and weep, and 

wail, 
And cry for vengeance. Zounds ! she is a stone. 

First Citizen. 
Lord ! would you measure sorrow by the gallon ? 

Third Citizen. 
Look ! the king's sister and his niece, in black. 
Can this be for the count ? 

Second Citizen. 

And why not, pray ? 
They loved him well. 

i66 



First Citi:^en. 
'T is strange. 

Tor a. 

O mother, mother 
Dost thou remember when he came from the war 
And we stood here, as now ? 

Liperata. 

Yes, child. 

Tor a. 

This day 
Is terrible, but not so sad as that. 
He is but dead — my prayers can speed his spirit. 
But to be still while he gave up his soul 
Unto unworthiness — ah ! that was pain ! 

Liperata. 
He died untainted, dear. Think not he loved her. 
He loved a dream and set her face within it. 
Even as some heathen might enshrine in gold 
A monstrous image, hallowing it with prayers. 
God takes the worship that is meant for him, 
Though ignorantly offered. 

Tor a. 

Dost thou think 
The earthly contact of his soul with hers 
Must last forever ? 

167 



Liperata. 
Is the heathen saint 
Chained to his idol through eternity? 
Nay, God is just. Their souls have never touched. 

Tor a. 
Ay, all will yet be well. This earth shall feel 
The hand of God to-day. Look up, Piera ; 
God will avenge our woe. 

Piera. 

Think not of me. 
I try no more to solve God's problems for him — 
They are too hard. I do not understand 
The forces which have wrecked us. They must come 
From the black voids of space — they are so strange. 
So strange and terrible. Shall I mock with tears 
The whirlwind's anger? Shall I cry aloud 
When all the thunders of a thousand years 
Are echoing through the caverns of my soul ? 

Tor a. 

Ay, all the more ; till God shall hear thy voice. 

Piera. 
Nay, nay ; I am a watcher on the shore 
Of some dead world. There was a shock, a crash ; 
The elements grew bolder than their wont. 
The green earth reddened, and the stars shot fire, 
And all was done. 1 am too slight a thing 
i68 



To move a dog to soothe my loneliness. 
1 ask nothing of God, save to go pray. 

Liperata. 
What puts thee in this strange mood, child ? 

Pier a. 

Alas! 
When my love died 1 mourned. But now 1 see 
Whole kingdoms are adrift ; and what am 1 
That I should hug a private grief, invoke 
A special vengeance ! Nay, if God be just, 
Leave it to him ! 

Tor a. 
Yet even on earth, at times. 
His sword strikes home. Is not Valeria 
In chains ? This day our woe shall be avenged. 

Pier a. 
Blood — ever blood ! 'T is man's revenge, and not 
God's justice. 

Tor a. 
Dost thou hear ? 

[The strains of a monks' chant are heard in the distance, gradually 
growing louder, and then fading away to silence.] 

Holy mother, maid divine, 
Thus we bear him to thy shrine — 
Pray for him ! 

169 



In the earth his clay shall rest ; 
Lift his spirit to thy breast. 

Pray for him ! 

Not through purgatorial tlame 

Let him supplicate thy name — 

Pray for him ! 

Martyr-winged, his sovil doth rise 
To thy throne in paradise. 

Pray for him ! 

Tor a. 

O God ! O God ! 
Liperata. 
The prince goes to the chapel. Be at peace. 
This journey does not weary him, my child. 

Pier a. 
Why dost thou tarry here ? The convent walls 
Will hush all deadly noise, and Christ thy Lord 
Has called thee. Wilt thou go ? 

Tor a. 

When all is done. 

Piera. 
1 will go with thee. Not the nun's deep veil. 
The funeral pall, the vows that bury life, 
Shall hide my love from thine. We will go pray- 
The poor world needs it. We will think away 
The wilful years, and pray for all the world 
Until we die. 

170 



Tor a. 
May death come soon, my sister ! 

Pier a. 
Not sooner than the light. I would not grope 
Through all eternity. Nay, give God time 
To teach us. 



[Enter the King, in full royal robes, crowned and sceptered. As he 
advances and scats himself upon the throne, a wave of murmur- 
ing passes over the people. ] 



Fourth Citizen. 
See — the king 's alone ! 

Voices. [Softly.] 

The prince ! 

Third Citi:^en. 
Where is the prince.'' 

Second Citizen. 

The pretty princess, too .? 

Others. 
The prince ! 

First Citizen. 
Nay — it is strange. 

Seventh Citizen. 

What fools are these, 
To lick the heels that crush them ! 



Fourth Ctii:(cn. 
Where is he? 



But the prince I 



Fi/tb Citizen. 
Where he should be. Trust the count. 
The King. 
My people! Ye have heard me many times — 
Now tor the last time hear ! I have grown old 
In serving you. The crown you gave to me 
I have enriched with principalities, 
The scepter 1 have girded round with laws — 
Now are they yours again. I loved my country. 
I thought to make her orderly and strong, 
To gather 'neath her shield all Italy 
Against the foreign foe. But sinuous fate 
Has baffled me ; the evil of the times 
Unwinds its coils, and lo! God's instrument 
Lies dead. My people, I can work no more. 
Prince Andrea, whom ye loved, who dipped your flag 
In shining victory, who would have borne it 
Far to the heights where glory sits enthroned 
Above time's siege, who loved you with a love 
More strong than death, who would have made you 

free 
Beyond the hope of those who dare betroth 
Blasphemous impotence with liberty. 
Who would have made you great beyond their power — 
Prince Andrea is murdered. 



Maiij/ 1^0 ices. [Softly] 
Murdered ! 

Others. 

Listen ! 
The prince is dead. 

The King. 

He gave you cities, gold, 
A great hope, a great destiny: and you — 
You give him death ! 

Many Voices. 

Not we ! 

y 

Others. 

No, no — not we ! 
Show us the murderer ! 

Seventh Citizen. 

What does this mean ? 
Is it the count's work ? 

Fifth Citizen. 

By Saint Michael's sword! — 
He should have told us this. 

Fourth Citiien. 

He trusts us not. 

Seventh Citizen. 
Nay, doubt him not. Wait — wait! 
173 



First Citizen and Others. 

Who killed him! 

i^oices. 

Oh, 
Our warrior ! 

The King. 
My people, are ye true? 
And do they slander you who dare assert 
You were false traitors to his love ? 

First Citizen. 

Who dares? 
Tell us who says it ? 

Sixth Citi:^en. [Aside to his faction. ] 

Where is Vancua? 

Seventh Citizen. 
'T is going strangely. 

Fifth Citizen. 

Faith, he sleeps! 

Sixth Citi:(en. 

Alas! 
These golden sands of time are slipping fast — 
What shall we do ? 

yoices. 
Give us the villain ! 
174 



First Citizen and Others. 

Justice ! 
The assassin ! 

The King. 
Friends, I must believe you true. 
My soul shall trust you, for the power ye gave me 
Is yours again, your glory or your shame 
Through coming years. I love my country still, 
And now that I can guide her course no more — 

Voices. 
No! No! 

Others. 
The king ! 

Manjy Voices. [Shouting.] 
The king ! 

Seventh Citizen. [To some of his faction.] 

Ye cowards ! knaves ! 
What ! are you cheering him ? 

Fifth Citizen. 

What can we do ? 

The Multitude. [Cheering.] 

Long live the king ! 

The King. 

It cannot be, my people. 
My scepter now must be the pilgrim's staff, 
175 



My robe his cowl. In far Jerusalem 

My prayers shall plead for you. But ere I go, 

Before I dare resign my stewardship, 

One duty lies before me, unto you 

One service I can render. Oh, my people, 

Will you have justice? Shall this noisome crime, 

That darkens o'er us like a pestilence. 

Rise festering to God ? 

First Ctt^en. 

The murderer ! 

Manj> Voices. 
Give us the murderer ! 

Others. 
Tear him limb from limb ! 

The King. 
Be patient — ah, you shall have need of patience. 

[To the Guard.] 

Bring in the woman, and protect her well. 

[Exit Captain with six men.] 

Be still, be patient. Let this cause be tried 

All orderly, that justice may not frown 

Upon our offering. Be nearer gods 

Than men, my people ; for your souls must bear 

A tale of treachery and ingratitude 

Unmatched among the devil's miracles. 

And not go mad. 

176 



Tora. 

Ah, mother, she is coming. 

Liperata. 
Hush ! she is come. 

[Re-enter the Guard with Valeria in chains.] 
Matty Voices. [Murmuring.] 

The princess ! 

First Citizen. 

This is false ! 

Second Cit^en. 
How do you know? 

First Citizen. 
She kill her husband ? Look ! 
'T is false, I say. 

Pier a. 
Ah, Tora, sister mine. 
There 's more in this than we can understand. 
See — is she not a seraph straight from God, 
Standing with folded wings ? 

Tora. 

It is hell's way — 
To counterfeit heaven's splendor with its flame. 

Pier a. 
Beware ! beware ! Thou know'st not heaven and hell. 
12 177 



The King. 
Valeria, widow of Andrea, prince, 
Co-ruler of this realm, and heir of all 
Its principalities, stand forth, and hear. 

[Valeria steps forward a pace or two, free of the Guards.] 

I summon thee to answer for the death 
Of Andrea, thy husband ; warranted 
By his confession, made in ignorance, 
But clear unto the wise. Base-born wast thou ; 
His name redeemed that stain. Thy lot was mean ; 
He raised thee to a throne. Thou wast a beggar ; 
He gave thee splendor. A wandering outcast, thou ; 
He made thy home a palace, and thy vassals 
The noblest in the land. Thou wast despised, 
The sport of men, fore-doomed to be their slave ; 
And he whose heart was stainless as the morn 
Gave thee his love. 

First Citizen. 
Her soul weeps tears of blood — 
What does this mean .? 

The King. 
And for these gracious gifts. 
Thou, three months from the altar where thy vows 
Were registered for God, thou didst conspire 
His ruin. Thou didst play upon his trust. 
Until in thy defense, to vindicate 
Thy honor, — dear to him though cheap to thee, — 



He killed the friend whose truth had dared tO assail it, 
And drank thy poison like ambrosial wine, 
Sure of its purity as though he had seen 
The angels brew it for the lips of Christ. 

Voices. [Softly.] 
Oh, horrible ! is it true? 

The King. 

Thou hear'st the charge. 
If thou canst meet it, or if thou dost ask 
Another voice to plead thy cause for thee, 
Speak, and avoid thy doom. 

yaleria. 

I do confess 
The truth of these thy charges, and I ask 
The sentence of the law. 

Voices. 
Death ! 

Many Voices. [In great cries.] 

Death ! 

[The Guards draw near to protect her.] 

Tor a. 
Hear'st thou? 

Pier a. 
She is calm still. What do we know — 
We mortals ! 

179 



The King. 
Ye have heard. Unhappy woman, 
Thou dost avow thy guilt. For crimes like thine 
The law gives death prolonged with agony, 
And thou hast heard the people ratify 
The law's decree. Yea, on thy perjured soul 
God shall pass sentence ; ere this day is old 
Thou diest. Yet because thou wast the wife 
Of Andrea, and a princess, death shall come 
With deference, as though the blood of kings 
Flowed in thy veins. Woman,- prepare thy soul. 
Choose 'thou the means of death. 

Valeria. 

The means of death! 

Captain of the Guard. [Aside to Valeria.] 

Gain time ! The count — 

yaleria. 

Nay, thus then ! 

[She draws a small dagger from her girdle, and plunges it into her 
breast.] 

Oh, my soul — 
How light it is ! 

The King. 
Will such a narrow door 
Suffice for death to enter ? 

1 80 



Valeria . [ Dreamily. ] 

Do not fear. 
Ah, sire, there is an angel at the point — 
Death's herald. [To the Guard.] Do not touch me ! 1 can 

die 
Untended. Look, dear, it is almost done I 

The King. 
Give me the dagger. 

[The Captain picks it up from the floor, and hands it to the King, 
who shows it to the people. ] 

'T is envenomed black. 
She dies within the hour. 

[To theCaptahi.] Bring hither now 
Your other prisoner. 

Captain. 

Sire, he escaped us. 

The King. 
Escaped you, say you ? One against you all ? 

Captain. 
He fled away. Not all the winds could reach him. 

The King. 
It is a lie, and you who utter it — 
You are a traitor. 

[For some time faint cries and vague sounds of an approaching crowd 
have been heard without. Now they grow more distinct, and the 
gathering uproar is plainly audible.] 



Captain. 
Traitor to a tyrant — 
Lover of liberty ! Friends of Vancua, 
Rise — to your work ! 

[He darts toward the King with uplifted sword; but Valeria, swift 
as thought, throws herself in front of the King, and baffles the 
attack.] 

Valeria. 
Save the king ! 

[There is great confusion through the hall. The Captain is seized 
and pinioned by several courtiers. The noise and the cries without 
grow louder and louder. ] 

Ah, sire, 
Your throne is doomed. Ten thousand foes unfurl 
The flag of liberty. Beware ! beware ! 
Arm yourself! Save yourself! Oh, I forgot 
Your danger in my ecstasy. The count — 
Ah, listen ! he and ruin are without — 
What will you do ? 

Voices. [Shouting without.] 

A Vancua ! Vancua ! 
Down with the tyrant ! Kill the king ! 

Seventh Citi^^en. 

Awake ! 
For Vancua — liberty ! 

[Some of Florimond's faction try to force their way to the door, where 
those without are struggling to enter. The others contend 
against them.] 

182 



First CiU:^en. 

Protect the king ! 

Many Voices. 
The king ! 

The King. 
Listen, my people ! he is there — 
Tempter and traitor ! He has fled my justice — 
To yours I now commend him. Punish him — 
This Count of Vancua who betrayed his friend ! 
Kill him who killed his master! Spare him not, 
Who did not spare this miserable woman, 
But lured her on to crime. Oh, silence him, 
Who dares profane the name of liberty 
And shroud the state in ruin. Be avenged 
For every lie upon his perjured soul. 
Do this for justice, and my last farewell 
Shall be a blessing. 

Voices. [Shouting without.] 

Vancua ! 

Many Voices. [Within.] 

The king ! 

[The throng beyond the entrance surges in, driving the others back 
toward the throne. Florimond, armed, appears at the topmost 
step in the wide door- way, sword in air, with armed troops behind 
him, flanked by the mob. The two crowds struggle furiously to- 
gether, pushing and surging with cries and blows. ] 

Many Voices. [From the King's crowd.] 

The traitor ! 

183 , 



others. 
Kill the traitor ! 

Shouts. [From the Vancua faction.] 

Death to the tyrant ! 

Florimond. 
On, on, friends ! Liberty ! The day is ours ! 

[The First Citizen has made his way to the door. He now suddenly 
wrenches Florimond's sword from his uplifted hand, and plunges 
it under his arm, above the protecting armor. ] 

First Citizen. 
This — for the women you have ruined ! this — 
For justice and the state ! 

Florimond. 
Valeria ! 
Oh, hear me ! — Is this all ? 

[Florimond falls dead. Valeria, lying half unconscious on the steps 
of the throne, neither hears nor sees. The Count's friends tenderly 
protect his body and bear it out; and his assailant slips back, 
uninjured, in the melee. Fierce shouts arise from Florimond's 
followers, as they surge forward into the hall.] 

Many l^oices. [From the Vancua faction.] 

Revenge ! 
Filippo. 

[From the topmost step, shouting to the throng without.] 

See — see — 
He is dead, our hero ! Kill this tyrant — kill ! 

The King. 
Thank God ! Now all is over. 
184 



Many Voices. [Without and within.] 

Kill the king! 
Down with the king ! the king ! 

[The King steps down from his throne, and marches into the midst of 
the people. At the same time Cardinal Ortus appears at the 
door. ] 

The King. 

Come — kill me, then. 
Do I love life, now hate has poisoned it? 
Oh, kill me ! If you have forgot my laws, 
The cities I have given you, and the glory — 
Then kill me. I am old, and death shall be 
Dear as a brother come to call me home. 
I pray you, kill me ! 

[Silence and a pause.] 

Oh, my countrymen. 
Long have I loved you — ever your desire 
Has been my goal. Will you have liberty? 
'T is yours. The throne is yours. And may your star, 
Kindled in justice, glorified in power, 
Pale not, till freedom's morn shall waken earth 
To universal gladness. I have done. 
Cardinal, though among mine enemies 
Thou stand'st, to thee do I confide my people. 
To thee, the anointed son of holy church, 
I yield my crown for them. 

[The Cardinal approaches, and receives the articles from the 
King's hands.] 

i8s 



To thee my scepter, 
The symbol of the law ; my robe as well. 
Long may the state be clad in majesty, 
And throned in strength. 

[He stands forth in a pilgrim's robe of sackcloth, girded with rope.] 

And from thy hands I ask 
The benediction Rome cannot refuse 
Unto the meanest of the sons of Christ 
Who seek his sepulcher. 

[He kneels to the Cardinal] 

Cardinal. 

May God forgive 
Thy crimes, usurping king ! May Christ's dear blood 
Efface the blood of murdered countrymen 
From thy stained record ! May thy pilgrimage 
Gain pardon for this latest trick of all, 
By which thou cheatest justice of the head 
Which is her due ! 

The King. 
Nay, do not touch him, friends — 
The foolish, impotent, and blind old man. 
Cardinal, these are wiser far than thou ; 
They feel the deeper purpose of my labor. 
Which wrath has hid from thee. The blood I shed 
Was consecrated to a deathless hope, 
That shall survive the ruin thou invokest 

i86 



And meet fulfilment in the deeps of time, 
Whither I send my fame. 



Cardinal. . 



What impudence ! 
Thy fame is infamy, thy hope dishonor. 



Down with him ! 



First Citizen. 

Many Voices. 
Silence him ! 



The King. 

Nay, spare him, friends. 
Wilt thou seek Vancua ? Thy life, my lord, 
Lies at my mercy. One command from me, 
Thou diest. If I fail to utter it 
And crush this stinging serpent of revenge, 
'T is not in deference to thee, but God, 
Whose pitiless courier, death, has brought me word 
The time is not yet ripe for my desire. 
And bade me pause. And now, since naught requires 
The sacrifice of blood, let us protect 
These myriad lives. 

Go with him hence, my people — 
Not so — my brothers, fellow-citizens ! 
Go to the Park of Peace, and there decree 
Your government, and leave a sad old man 
Herewith his dead. 

187 



First Citizen. 
Ah, sire ! 

Agnolo. 

Our hearts are yours — 
Lead us against them ! 

Cardinal. 

Can I trust thee Hving ? 

The King. 
Fool ! fool ! 

Liperata. [Advancing toward the Cardinal.] 

Come — will you not obey him, friends ! 
Ye, whom he served so long, will you not grant 
His last request ? Away ! for ye are free ! 

[To the Cardinal.] 

I charge thee, by the past that we have shared, 
Yield this revenge, and lead these angry hosts 
To peace. 

Cardinal. 
What— thou? 

FilippO. [Without.] 

Nay, on! Though he is dead 
The cause can never die. Will you forsake him ? 
Impotent race ! incapable alike 
Of slavery or freedom ! 

Liperata. [To the Cardinal.] 

Dost thou hear ? 



The King. 
Go, go, friends ! Save the weary state from blood. 
I thank you all. 

Matijy Voices. 
The king ! 

[The people cling around him, kneeling and kissing his garments. ] 
Liperata. [To the Cardinal. ] 

Oh, be a man — 
A leader ! 

[The door leading toward the chapel rolls open, and on its threshold 
stands the Prince, pale as marble, and clad in flowing robes of 
white. The people nearest him start back in terror, and in a mo- 
ment fear takes possession of the multitude.] 

First Citi{en. 
Look — the dead ! 

Many Voices. [In stifled cries.] 

The dead I Away ! 
Away ! 

The Prince. [Raising his arms.] 

Noise ! noise ! Shall I not sleep in peace ? 
Away ! 

[The crowd, in panic terror, surges madly over the steps at the en- 
trance, bearing away with them the Cardinal and Liperata, and 
driving before them the throng outside. Wild cries and groans 
are heard. The Prince glides forward a few paces. ] 

Voices. 
Good God — he comes ! God save us ! It is death ! 
Away ! away ! 



Agnolo. 
Is he not dead, sire ? 

The King. 

Nay, 
I know not. Go, do what a wise man can 
For those thy fellow-countrymen — so lost 
Without a leader ! Leave me, all of you, 
Oh, leave me with the dying ! 

[Agnolo kisses the King's hand, and rising, unsheathes his sword. ] 

Agnolo. 

Come with me ! 
The state is ours to save ! Away — away ! 

The King. 
So rolls the world; not all man's flaming hope 
Can light one morn on earth before its time. 

[The crowd has gone, and the courtiers. None are left but the King, 
the Prince, Tora, Piera, and Valeria, who still lies along the 
steps of the throne.] " 

The Prince. 
I dreamed I wandered to another world. 
And found my love there. Father, am 1 dead ? 
Is this the king? 

The King. 
God keep the world, my son ! 
'T is ours no more. 

190 



The Prince. 
How strange ! My God ! what is it 
That lies here like a pall ? Tora, what is it 
That wraps you thus ? Oh, God in heaven ! my wife — 
Prostrate — in chains ! Valeria, my wife — 
Look at me! speak to me ! 

Valeria. 

My husband — see — 
I too can die. 

The Prince. 
Thou dying, and my soul 
Still bound to earth ? God will not suffer it ! 

Tora. 
Insensate ! wilt thou love this woman still, 
Who murdered thee ? Wilt thou embrace her still, 
Who lured thee to the grave ? 

Piera. 

Ah, Tora ! 

The King. 

Child — 
Pluck out thy scorpion's tongue ! 

The Prince. 

It is a lie ! 
How dar'st thou utter it ? A stupid lie ! , 

Unsay it, lest thou send thy soul to hell — 
Tora, my comrade, play-mate ! 
191 



Tor a. 

'T is the truth — 
God knows it, and the woman lying there 
Dares not deny it. 

The Pri)ice. 
Silence ! Oh, my love, 
Think not of her. I know 't is false, my darling. 
Mistrust me not. 

Valeria. 
'T is true ! Forgive ! forgive ! 

The Prince. 
True ? true ? Thou wouldst have killed me ? 

Valeria. 

Oh, forgive ! 

The Prince. 
It seemed like falsehood. If it be the truth, 
1 must have failed thee somewhere, for thy heart 
Was mine alone. 

Valeria. 
Thine ! thine ! 

The Prince. 

And we are dying 
Together.'* I for thee, and thou for me? 

Valeria. 
Yes ! yes ! 

192 



The Prince. 
Thank God ! naught have I to forgive. 
God blesses us. What ! is remorse so dread 
That thou must die ? The children of a king, 
We '11 greet the king of darkness with a smile, 
And wreathe his dusky wings with roses. Come ! 
All — all is gone but love. Come, let us dream 
That 't is our wedding-day, for so it is — 
To-day we shall be one in heaven. Rise ! rise ! 
And give me that embrace which shall endure 
Through all eternity ! 

yakria. 

My lord ! my king ! 

[She droops in his arms, and he kneels with his burden.] 

The Prince. 
Hush — hush, dear ! Thus I held thee first, my darling - 
That day thy voice went ringing through my soul, 
That day 1 almost lost thee. Wait for me ! 
Nay — wilt thou hasten ? 

[Valeria dies. ] 

Hush ! I hear thy song. 
I cannot see thee, darling, for the light. 



[The Prince rises to his full stature, and then falls dead. The King 
bows over him.] 

13 193 



The King. 
God's heaven will be the purer, 
Now thou art there. 

Tor a. 
See — he has gone with her ; 
And I am left alone. 

[The convent bell rings far away. ] 

Pier a. 
Hear'st thou thy Lord ? 
Come, let him teach thee. Thou hast much to learn. 

The King. 
Dead ! dead ! both dead ! Great God ! thy world is 
dead ! 

[Curtain.] 



NIAGARA'S SONG 



Behold, they are thine, my Ontario, thine ! these waters 

I give to thee. 
I pour the blue lakes in thy cup like wine — a foaming 
and sparkling sea. 

And 1 chant thee a song 

That shall never change ; 
Thou shalt hear it as long 
As the sweet stars range 
Past the purple throne of the stately night, that in silence 
doth list to me. 



'T is my love, 't is the voice of my wooing, Ontario, 

sister and friend. 
Wilt thou give me thy soul for my suing, through 
years that shall have no end ? 
I have cloven a way 

Through the rocks to thee ; 
13* 197 



And I bid thee stay 
From the clamoring sea 
And repose in the lap of the glad green earth, lest thou 
follow the sad moon's trend. 

Ill 
There is murmur of far-away winds in my song, there 

is babbling of brooks and rills. 
And the whisper of forests that darkly throng at the 
crest of the purple hills ; 

And the lulling of leaves 
For the day unborn — 
Ere the swift light weaves 
The gold mantle of morn. 
Softly wrapping in glory some deep still pool, till its 
bosom with rapture thrills. 

IV 

Dost thou feel the soft hush o'er the prairie, where 

rivers so gently flow 
That the flowers, swayed by winds unwary, peer down 
at their souls below ? 

Ah, they whisper of love, 

And the words they vow 
Save the heavens above 
Only I and thou 
Shall hear through the thronging thunders for aye, 
while the centuries come and go. 
198 



V 

1 bear thee the white gull's quavering cry from Supe- 
rior's sculptured isles, 
And the whirring of wings as the geese mount high to 
form in their cloud-like files. 
In my heart is the note 

Of the glad bird's hymn, 
Who, in cooling his throat 
At a deep pool's rim, 
Gave his soul to remembering waters that bore me his 
paean a thousand miles. 

VI 

When the sea-souled lakes lie sleeping as still as a 

planet's flight. 
Lie dreaming of heaven, and keeping a tryst with the 
stars all night. 

When their waves roll as blue 

As the sky they adore. 
When they mirror the hue 
Of the spring ashore — 
They are mine, they are thine, O my queen and my 
love, with their opaline robes of light. 

VII 

They gather in ranks white-crested with foam, and toss 

me their plumes in mirth. 
As the numberless legions come marching home with a 

shout that doth shake the earth ; 

199 



And the colors unfurl 

Of their rainbow flag, 
Till its clear stripes curl 

O'er my mist-veiled crag — 
Till it floats its soft web o'er the fathomless pool where 
the river of storms has birth. 

VIII 

They bring me the summer's glory, soft crowned with 

a mist of gold, 
And wrap me in raiment hoary when the icy year 
grows old. 

And they shudder and roar 

When the gray winds dash 
O'er their quivering floor 
'Neath the lightning's lash, 
And the pale clouds flee at the call of the squall to 
pavilions of gloom and cold. 

IX 

But I gather them close in their tumult of fright, and 

I laugh as the wild winds flee; 
For what storm is so proud of its perishing might as 
to measure its strength with me ? 
It can rave but an hour 
Ere 1 scourge it home 
Where the whirlwinds cower 
In my caves of foam ; 
And the roar of the thunder is mine for aye, till the 
hush of eternity. 



X 

For I come from unreckoned ages, from millions of 

years long dead, 
When unwrit were the world's wide pages by life's 
unfaltering tread. 

And 1 sang my song 

At the dawn of time, 

As the earth grew strong 

For her fate sublime. 

As she bore multitudinous creatures, and lulled them 

to sleep when their strength was sped. 

XI 

When imperial man on her bosom grew to his king- 
dom of joy and pain, 
1 looked in his luminous eyes and knew her long 
labor was not in vain. 

For the dumb tribes bowed 

To the dauntless one, 
And he sang aloud 
To the shining sun. 
By the might of his wisdom he conquered all, but me 
he can never restrain. 

XII 

For ihe past's unrecorded emotion the future must 

never lose, 
For the mountains must speak to the ocean, and 1 

am the voice they choose. 



The doom of the old 

And the hope of the new — 
The winter's cold 

And the summer's blue — 
From time to eternity plunge and roar, while the stars 
shine on and muse. 

XIII 

1 chant thee a psalm and a threnody, my love with 

the breast serene. 
The praises of life and of death shall be a sweet song 
in thy heart, my queen. 

And forever and aye — 
Till the world is still 
And the light fades away 
And the sun grows chill — 
I shall gather the thunders and rush to thee, and in 
peace on thy bosom lean. 



ORIGIN OF THE TIDES. 

The moon, a lady robed in white, 

Rose o'er the bosom of the sea 
And whispered : Take me ! by thy might 

Embrace me, seize me, set me free 
From endless bondage to the night ! 

The brave sea rose to do her will, 
And tossed his pale arms high in air. 

The deeps responded with a thrill 
That shook far coasts and islands fair. 

Yet the pale maid rode higher still. 

The bold surge, wrestling with defeat, 
Threw foamy kisses high — in vain. 

At last he sighed : Ah, lady sweet, 
Thou art too great ! But thou shalt reign 

My queen. My heart shall rise to greet 

The daily dancing of thy feet. 



SONG OF THE AIR. 



Hush — hush ! Ah, whisper low ! 
Dost thou not know 
Asleep earth lies? 
Nay — wake her not ! She hears 
The circling spheres 
Sing in their skies. 

1 love her. All the day 
I ward away 

The sun's fierce scorn. 
All night I sob and sing, 
And cool winds bring 
To soothe the morn. 

1 wrap her round with blue 
Her lord looks through 
With face of fire — 
With blue so soft and pure 
She can endure 
His passion dire. 
204 



And when her spirit sighs 
White clouds arise 
To soothe the glare. 
When she is sad, soft rains 
Efface her stains 
And leave her fair. 

And though her beauty fall 
Beneath a pall 
As gray as death, 
Though by fierce tempests torn 
She lies forlorn, 
Weary of breath — 

I come with footfall soft 
And lift aloft 

Her robes of woe ; 
And from her lover down 
I bear a crown — 
The shining bow. 

Then doth she ope her eyes 
in glad surprise. 
And smile to see 
The sun's winged troops awake 
For her sweet sake, 
Her slaves to be. 
205 



And I, I lie as still 
As nights that thrill 
With dawns unborn ; 
I waft away her tears 
And soothe her fears — 
Sweet wraith forlorn. 

So hush ! She floats to-night 
On star streams bright ; 
Her woes are gone. 
The sweet moon sings to her. 
No leaf shall stir 
Until the dawn. 



206 



IN THE BEGINNING. 

When sunshine met the wave 
Then love was born, 

Then Venus rose to save 
A world forlorn. 

For light a thousand wings 

Of joy unfurled, 
And bound with golden rings 

The icy world. 

And color flamed the earth 

With glad desire, 
Till life sprang to the birth, 

Fire answering fire. 

And so the world awoke. 

And all was done, 
When first the ocean spoke 

Unto the sun. 



207 



A WRECK. 

Brown and old, brown and old, 

Thou liest, thy cureless wounds agape. 

Blue and cold, blue and cold, 

The waves thy bare bones can not 'scape. 

They were thy slaves once ; to atone 

They mocked thee, and thou art their own. 



A RONDEAU. 

When roses bloom — ah, wake, sweet May! 
The still world hears a roundelay 

Athrill within the throat of spring. 

Awake ! your brightest trophies bring 
And speed the winter's frown away. 

For glory reigns the livelong day, 
And Lethean perfumes softly stray 

'Mid shining bowers where dear hopes ding 
When roses bloom. 

Ah, life, not thine deep mists of gray, 
Not thine black voids without a ray — 

The wide dawns flash, the young winds sing. 
My heart's bells clamorously ring. 
The years throng smiling crowned with bay — 
When roses bloom. 



209 



CANTATA. 

Sung at the dedication of the Chicago Auditorium, 
December p, i88p. 

Hail to thee, fair Chicago ! On thy brow 

America, thy mother, lays a crown. 
Bravest among her daughters brave art thou. 

Most strong of all her heirs of high renown. 
Thine elder sisters from the peopled East, 

Throned by the surging sea. 
Lift foaming cups to pledge thy crownal feast, 

Calling, All hail ! to thee. 
Down in the mellow regions where time dozes. 
Rocked by soft winds, warmed by the lazy sun. 
Sweet southern cities gather wealth of roses 

To wreathe for thee the garlands thou hast won. 
And the young West rings out a glad acclaim ; 

Children new-born to fame, 
Bold sister cities, generous and free, 
Call hail to thee ! 



From misty rivers, from the lofty plains 

Rimmed round with hoary guardians grim and old, 

From the rich realm beyond, where summer reigns. 
And the warm ocean sleeps in robes of gold. 

From far and near the choral praises ring — 

The wise world wakes, thy festal song to sing. 

The ages trailed enwrapt in dreams 

Along the tideless sea. 
The marsh-grass waved in sluggish streams, 

The snipe piped bold and free. 
The prairies lay beflowered and gay, 

And time knew naught of thee. 

And feather-crested chieftains met 

Upon thy sandy shore, 
Before their lurid sun had set 

Afar, to rise no more. 
They could not hear Fate's liegemen near, 

Nor see the flag they bore. 

But the soul of the river lay pondering there 

Of the wonderful days to be : 
My bosom the wealth of the world shall bear 

When the white ships rest with me, 
When the spirit of steam and the spirit of air 
Shall waft me a race like the sunlight fair, 



As strong as hope 
Fate's doors to ope 
To realms that are rich for the souls that dare. 



And the sweet blue lake that doth dream of the sky, 
Or sing of the sea when the surge rolls high, 
Came crested with foam to the shell-strewn strand. 
And murmured : I hear thee, O River ! 

My waters shall waft to land 
A race for whom God the Giver 
Hath opened his opulent hand. 
And a fabric of purple and gold and blue, 

From the rays of the morning spun. 
For the robes of his joy in this kingdom new 
We have woven — I and the sun. 



And weary nations heard 

As they dreamed on the breast of time, 
Till the yearning world was stirred 

With the thrill of a birth sublime. 
And the spirits that wait with God — 

Freedom and Faith and Power — 
Looked down in men's eyes and trod 

The earth, as in earth's first hour. 
And they wrought for the world and sang 
Till the morn with music rang : 
215 



A mighty nation shall arise, 

Whose power shall perish never ; 
A valiant people, free and wise, 
The chains of hate shall sever. 
A city brave and fair 
Their flag of hope shall bear. 
In liberty and love. 
Like hosts of God above. 
Glad states shall march forever. 



A rush of leathern wings 

From shadowed depths of shame 
Rose thunderous ; and evil things, 

Whose brows were wheeled with flame, 
Came hissing : Nay — beware ! 
Ye speed on to despair. 



And one said: I am War! 

I will cleave your land in twain. 
And the star-strewn blue of that banner new 

Shall be wet with a crimson rain. 



Fierce Fire hissed : Would you rear 

A city of delight ? 
Lo I I will wander near 

And waste it in a night ! 



And Anarchy upreared 

A visage haggard, bleared, 
That screeched : Your flag is a brilliant rag ! 

Will it shine so fair 

When its stripes I tear, 
And its stars in the mire 1 drag? 

And Greed sneered : Fold on fold 

I will dim its hues with gold. 

The light of hope shall shine no more 

Beyond the night, above the roar 

That darkens, maddens all the world, 

When bound with gold that flag lies furled. 

And all hell's brood shrieked : No ! 
Love dies, but hate shall grow. 

But God's bright host said : Peace ! 

And snows of silence fell. 
Fear not ! these woes shall cease — 
He doeth all things well. 
The morning light shall purge away each stain 

That flag must bear. 
Like April, smiling after every rain 

More pure and fair. 
The land shall wake to rapture from her pain. 
Of love aware. 
217 



And when the banner city wounded falls, 
When ashes fill her halls, 

Her heart shall fail not, for the suppliant years 
Shall bid her dry her tears 

And come to them. New glory in her eyes. 

New courage in her soul, she shall arise. 



City of freedom ! city of our love ! 

The golden harvests of the world are thine. 
Green fields around thee, fields of blue above, 

Glad in exultant youth, in power divine. 
Thou smilest on the marge of shining seas. 

Pure as their robes of light. 
Strange glories trail across with every breeze — 

Slow pomp of day and night. 
Enthroned in majesty, thou claimest now 

Thine heritage of beauty — robes impearled, 
Mantles of purple, jewels for thy brow, 

Splendors new-wrought to rouse the aging world. 
Thine they shall be. Here to thy hall of state — 

The temple of our sacred liberty, 
Where young Democracy, proud priest of fate, 
Shall shout afar full many a brave decree — 
Hither comes trooping a resplendent train 

Bedecked with flowers ; 
The loving arts shall ease thy breast of pain 
Long golden hours. 
218 



New thoughts are thine ; new visions rise 

Before thy clear prophetic eyes. 
On to the future, where the light 

Streams over fields of glory, 
Thy soul doth take its morning flight 
From slumberous ages hoary. 
Out of the dark an eagle to the sun 
Speeds on. Awake ! 'T is day ! The night is done. 




«ir 



OUR LADY OF ART. 

Who art thou, woman wondrous fair, 
Whose face is wan with woe ? 

Torn are thy feet, thy brow is bare — 
Ah, whither wilt thou go? 

What wailing child thy cloak doth share. 
Though icy tempests blow ? 

Said she : A traveler I, who found 
This child upon the sodden ground. 
IVbitber God leads us we are hound. 



Ah, lady, Death awakes to-night — 

1 see his eyes of flame. 
Come in — my hearth-fire shineth bright- 

Come bless Christ's holy name ! 
Thy seat shall be a throne of light, 

A silver flute thy fame. 

God keep thy house in peace, she said ; 
And guard thy soul from woful dread ! 
Far lies the path my feet must tread. 
223 



'T is love implores thee. Not in vain 

Love kneels before thy feet. 
Ah, break those bitter bonds of pain 

And wear love's garland sweet. 
Bright gems, rich robes without a stain 

For such a bride were meet. 

Ah ! love is dear, hut God hath lit 
His lamp of truth. Though poor my wit, 
I cannot choose hut follow it. 

Nay, thou dost dream — no light is there, 

But darkness void and lone. 
Deep chasms yawn thy soul to snare 

Where death shall claim his own. 
The babe shrinks trembling. Ah, beware ! 

Dost thou not hear his moan ? 

God hade me hear the child afar. 
Though we he led where tempests are. 
Deep in the sky shines many a star. 

Nay, then alas ! — speed on thy way. 
Hard is thy heart and proud. 

Haste on ! the child with us shall stay ; 
Not his thy fated shroud. 

He shall be strong and blithe and gay, 
His soul shall sing aloud. 



He lay all naked by the path. 

Ye passed him hy. God's pity hath 

Made strong mine arms. Beware His wrath ! 

Base-born the child ! and thou art base, 
Thou strangely stubborn thing ! 

On to the night, and leave no trace 
Of this thy wandering. 

Away ! that we forget thy face — 
The madness thou wouldst bring. 

Hush, bush ! they cannot take thee, dear. 
Thine am I still — thou shall not fear. 
These know not; now they cannot hear. 

The starving winds in veils of sleet 
Wailed like thin ghosts in pain, 

And eager tempests fierce and fleet 
Roared madly in their train. 

But Danger at my lady's feet 
Spread all his snares in vain. 

Ah, child, rest close upon my heart ; 
No power shall rend us twain apart, 
God's hostage to my soul thou art. 

And blithe and sweet, and fair and free, 
Through all the deadly place, 
15 225 



She bore her burden joyously, 

And sped her eager pace, 
And when the morn awoke in glee 

A rapture filled her face. 

Seest thou the light, my child? Behold — 
Truth comes to earth ik robes of gold, 
Even as our blessed faith foretold. 

And lo ! a choral song of praise 
Rose from the meadows green. 

And all the world was wreathing bays 
To crown my lady queen ; 

While seraphs trooped from heaven to gaze 
In golden throngs serene. 

Rejoice, my child ! God led us right. 
Along the path we trod by night 
The world comes singing in delight. 

The child that lay upon her breast 

Shone with a splendor rare. 
Angels and men his glory blessed, 

Their song became a prayer. 
The choiring hosts their Lord confessed, 

And knelt in worship there. 

Now God be praised ! awake, mine eyes. 
Unworthy this divine surprise ! 
Here in mine arms the Christ-child lies. 
226 



FROM THE DARK.* 

God sat enthroned in glory, with saints and seraphim 
In triple rows around him, as far as heaven's rim. 
And songs that rule the planets arose in waves to him. 

He spake : Behold my servant, whom men and angels 



praise 



Whose hand so strong to please me, before my throne 

to raise 
Temples and towers whose beauty shall gild the golden 

days ? 

* " He was one of us, yet he was not. We seem all in a common 
crowd and all alike, or differing but in measurable degree; then we 
are tried by adversity, and one remains steadfast; we are tried by 
war, and one rises to command our commanders ; and in the end we 
are tried by time, and one who sat with us is immortal. Others were 
heard in their day, but when their voices are silent his still speaks on, 
and is forever listened to in the assemblies of the wise. . 

" John Wellborn Root is dead ; and this city of triumphs and misfor- 
tunes, which had high triumph in his work, has suffered in his death 
profoundest misfortune. The city will still be great, powerful, prodi- 
gious; but the "hands — the two hands which could mold its ambition 
into beauty, its greatness into grandeur — are done with work. . . . 

" What time* does not destroy it cherishes, what it does not wear 
away it makes greater ; and the names of men great in art, cherished 
and made vast by time, weigh upon the senses of the present. Vet one 

227 



And God said : Go, mine angels, and to my servant 

bear 
The joy wherewith I love him, and all gifts pure and 

rare. 
Bid him scale heaven to know me ; even this his soul 

shall dare. 

Then like white words of mercy down to the aching 

world 
The angels bore God's message. With heaven-bright 

pinions furled 
They stood before his servant, and bowed their brows 

impearled. 

And one who shone with wisdom more splendid than 

the sun 
Said : Lo, I bring thee treasures from truth's high 

kingdom won ; 
And touch thy lips with sweetness, that God's will 

may be done. 

may look over the earth and say that no architect of immortal name 
in any age did more for his own fame, or for the world of beauty, than 
he who twenty years ago was a boy and who now is dead. 

" ' Till wasteful war shall statues overturn, 
And broils root out the work of masonry,' 

he will be remembered. As long as one stone remains above another, 
those stones will have a tongue to proclaim his genius. For whatever 
remains will be right, just, and beautiful beyond rules. The ruins 
will furnish examples for newer days." 

— Chicago News, January 22, 1891. 



And one whose face was lovely as dawn in summer skies 
Sang softly : I am Beauty, the jewel of God's eyes ; 
1 bring the arts to serve thee, bright flowers of paradise. 

And one whose eyes were deeper than silent seas at 

night 
Said : Lo, from Christ's own heart's-blood I shaped 

this ruby bright ; 
For I am Love ; I bring thee the splendor of love's 

light. 

And one wove for his glory a laurel-wreath eterne — 
Upon her brow prophetic a shining star did burn. 
She said : The reverent ages shall list to thee and 
learn. 

Then rose a gentle angel, whose eyes were veiled in 

mist, 
Whose dusky wings were silvered with softest amethyst, 
And all the seraphs, kneeling, his trailing garments 

kissed. 

Nay, hush ! Desires ye give him ; from these I bring 

release. 
Hath he not won earth's battles ? And shall the triumph 

cease ? 
The war of life is over. I bear God's crown of peace. 



229 



Ah, Lord ! Upon thy ramparts are crystal towers whose 

stones 
Are suns that burn forever. Thy heaven's azure zones 
Are ringed with radiant mansions, studded with shining 

thrones. 

Heaven doth not need the glory earth dearly cherisheth. 
Why didst thou thrill his spirit with thy celestial breath? 
Bid all thine angels serve him, and give the crown to 
Death? 



230 



SHADOWS. 

What is most near ? 

Ah, sweet dead year — 

Thy fallen leaf 

And gathered sheaf, 
The presence that is fled, 
The vows that once were said 

These are most near. 

Swift speeds away 
Rose-crowned To-day. 
So far, so far 
Her light feet are ! 
I look and see thy face 
Haunting the upland place, 
Dear Yesterday. 

The blooming flowers, 
The sunny hours — 
These cannot rest, 
These are half blest. 
But thou forevermore 
Art mine, love, as of yore, 
And time is ours. 
231 



THE LAND OF LOVE. 

I SAW a spirit wandering in a blessed garden land, 
And, lo ! she plucked seven roses and bore them in her 

hand. 
And wove an odorous wreath thereof, washed pure with 

morning dew, 
And crowned there her shining hair for God and men 

to view. 

One rose was white as maidenhood, folding its heart 
of gold, 

And one flushed with the rapture of many a bliss un- 
told, 

And one grew shy and paled with dread of heavy- 
footed woe. 

Ah me ! the fears, deep-fraught with tears, that ten- 
der blossoms know. 

The fourth rose strong and stately was, and, lo ! be- 
side it stood 

A tiny bud of promise, as sweet as babyhood. 

Deep in the crimson wine of truth the sixth soft rose 
was dyed. 

The last was bright with golden light — long may its 
joy abide ! 



And as I looked 1 knew full well no land more fair 

could be. 
And angels stooped from paradise that flower-crowned 

face to see, 
And all who wandered there were blest all blessed 

dreams above, 
For the land was decked for earth's elect, and the spirit's 

name was Love. 



WITH FOLDED WINGS. 

I LEFT the heaven of heavens this morn, 
Ere yet this morn begun — 

A thousand times the earth has borne 
Her burden round the sun 

Since to-day broke in heaven and, blest, 

We sang the hymn God loveth best. 

The silver wings were like a sea 
Sparkling beneath the throne, 

Whose mighty billows dazzled me, 
Speeding to earth alone. 

Still in the dark that light shines clear, 

Still through the silence do I hear. 

Yet heaven is not for me, my love, 
While thou on earth dost bide. 

Through hours of years I wait above 
Time's onward flowing tide 

Till God shall free thy soul, till thou 

Shalt feel the glory round thy brow. 



Peace ! thou shalt look in vain for me 
Through all the twilight world. 

Beyond the moon, for love of thee, 
I wait with pinions furled. 

Art lonely on the peopled earth ? 

Mine was thy soul before time's birth. 

Nay — seems it strange God wills it so. 
Bidding us still be twain ? 

For me the joy, for thee the woe 
Through creeping years of pain. 

Ah, love ! thy tears bedim my eyes — 

When we are one thou shalt arise. 



235 



A PASTEL. 

May I wander in your woods, ye warhlers ? May I 
wander in your woods ? 

If you will not walk swiftly, nor flaunt your gaudy 
parasol beneath us, nor lift your spy-glass to count our 
feathers. 

May I wander in your woods, ye beetles ? May I 
wander in your woods ? 

If you will not tread heavily, nor pluck the brier- 
rose where we powder our wings, nor start when the 
bumblebee buzzes. 

May I wander in your woods, ye breezes ? May I 
wander in your woods ? 

If you will not wear stiff robes, nor bare the leafy 
bough, nor veil your face from our kisses. 

May I wander in your woods, ye memories ? May I 
wander in your woods ? 

If you will not gather the fallen leaves, nor shadow 
your brow with black, nor burden the air with sighs. 
236 



DANCING SONG. 



CHORIAMBICS. 



Come, love, over the fields, green with the spring's 

first kiss ! 
Dance, love ! roses will bloom only to gaze at this. 
See there — poised in the blue, deep as the truth, and 

pure, 
White clouds float into one, cleave, though the winds 

allure. 

Come, dance far and away into the summer's noon ; 
Haste on over the night, strewn with the trailing moon. 
Ween not love is a sigh, weighted with wings of lead ; 
Hear me — love is a dance, light as a seraph's tread. 

Ah, sweet ! far in the light, storming the gates of pearl, 
Two birds circle and wheel, quiver and float and whirl. 
Borne on music above soul flies to soaring soul — 
What bird singing of love e'er could his wings control ? 
239 



So we, what should we know, e'en though the sun 

should die, 
Stars dim into the dark — why should you care, or I? 
Dance on ! Love is the light, love is immortal bliss. 
Life fades into the night — death is love's morning kiss. 



MARRIAGE SONG. 

Hither, Cupids, come dancing — 

Wreathe roses along ; 
And in tune with the wedding bells, 

Ho, for a song ! 

Come and crown ye with garlands, 
And laugh in your pride, 

For the maiden you wounded 
To-day is a bride. 

Steal her blushes to redden 
Bright clouds at the dawn. 

Bear her sighs where the souls 
Of dead blossoms have gone. 

Let her smiles be the gems 
In your coronal prize. 
, Ah ! but what will ye do 

With the light in her eyes ? 

You might set it above 
In the blue ; but a star 

Can shine only through darkness, 
And only afar. 

i6 241 



A soft sunbeam it were, 
But the sun in his might 

Departs with his legions 
At touch of the night. 

Oh, what light is so radiant, 

So steadfast and pure, 
That when worlds are but ghosts 

It will ever endure? 

It is love. Love alone 
Shines forever and aye. 

'T is the light of God's throne, 
'T is the infinite day. 

Open wide, then, the gates 
For the bridegroom and bride ! 

To the land where love waits 
Open wide ! open wide ! 



242 



' SLUMBER SONG. 

Ah, let me sleep ! 
The portals of the night close o'er mine eyes; 
My spirit in the soothing shadow lies, 

Too tired to weep. 

1 see afar 
The soft parade of unremembered dreams 
Luring me down smooth lotus-wreathed streams 

Where perfumes are. 

Canst thou not hear 
The lulling winds that fan away the day ? 
The sun sleeps in some cavern far away — 

Why should we fear ? 

If he uproU 
The curtains of the night and come again, 
Then shall we wake in rapture. Hush till then- 

Sleep — sleep, my soul. 



243 



LOVE SONG. 

More lovely is my love 
Than yonder dove 
Who flies so free. 
Her voice is sweeter far 
Than larks* notes are. 
Ah, dear is she. 

She sitteth in the sun, 
And every one 

Smiles up to God — 
As when a lily rare 
Springeth for prayer 
Out of the sod. 

Her hair enweaves the light 
In woof as bright 

As saints' brows wear. 
Her soul through morning eyes 
Explores the skies, 
For truth is there. 



Blest with glad thoughts, she waits 
At life's swung gates 
The call of love — 
God's love or man's — ah me ! 
How white is she — 
My flower, my dove ! 



Craven thou art. < 

Hark thee — be stilled ! 
The highest ranks of heaven — 

God's circles seven — 
Christ's love hath filled. 

God hath no need of her; 
She does not stir 

When wide skies shine. 
She lives for love. Awhile 
Her solemn smile 
Is ours — is mine ! 



i6* 245 



TO A CHILD. 

Ah, Margaret, my valentine, 
Earth's richest treasures all are thine. 
The dawn is in thy glowing hair, 

And in thine eyes 

Are darkening skies, 
A-sparkle with the evening star. 

Thy voice is like the wakening laugh 
Of summer, when the robins quaff 
Love-potions with a flight of song. 

Thy footsteps all 

Like daisies fall 
Life's shadowy, leafy path along. 

And so in loving thee I love 

The sweetest thoughts of God above. 

An angel's message is thy kiss. 

My valentine, 

Still half divine, 
Stoop to me from thy skies of bliss ! 



246 



LOVE'S POWER. 

Who has so fair a face? 

Where blooms so rare a grace ? 
What song so blithe in all the world is ringing? 

Meseems my lady spies 

My world from azure skies, 
Whence sunny wealth of smiles her soul is flinging. 

She is so bright, so free, 

She cannot stoop to me. 
Whom God hath chained to earth, whose soul is craven. 

I love her, yet my feet 

To flee from her are fleet. 
I love her, yet my spirit shuns its haven. 

I love her, yet I know 

She is more pure than snow. 

And I am stained with life, and scarred with warring. 
How should I dare to stand 
Where seraphs hand in hand 

Kneel all agaze, the gates of heaven unbarring ? 
247 



Yet if she bade me rise 
And meet her glowing eyes, 

Bade me be brave, earth and the darkness spurning. 
My soul would dare to wield 
God's sword and bear His shield. 

And find that heaven for which the world is yearning. 



248 



AU REVOIR. 

Forget me not, thou who shalt wander far. 

Here on thy breast I lay 
Flowers blue as heaven, enclosing each a star; 

Now onward be thy way! 

I do not fear to send thee to the light, 

Though round God's triple throne 
Immortal beauty dwells in souls more bright 

Than joy could make mine own. 

Though worlds on worlds in marshalled glory shine, 

All singing as they roll, 
The seal love set upon thy life is mine. 

I greet thy wakened soul. 

Learn on ! and when I dare to follow thee 

Beyond death's blinding sun. 
Show me God's truth, where souls may wander free, 

When love and light are one. 



HOPE. 

What wilt thou do when faith is fled 
And hope is dead 
And love's wing broken ? 
Wilt thou lie in the grave of the past and sleep, 
While the mourners weep 
And sad rites are spoken ? 

Nay, nay — fare forth, though the night be black 
And the storm's red rack 
In the sky is burning ; 
For the sun shines somewhere, from gloom released, 
And the heart of the east 
For the day is yearning. 



250 



UNFULFILLED. 

Lord, I am weak, and through the night 
Bright stars stream mercilessly strong. 
Where is my will ? In nebulous flight 
Its wide wings drift and waft along, 
And dip their trailing plumes in gloom. 
And bear me floating far away 
Where the deep darkness offers room 
For conquering suns to form and sway. 

Long trails of shadowy light diffused 
That wander dimly through the spheres, 
My errant longings, deep infused 
With glories of unnumbered years. 
Watch at the massing of the suns, 
Feel the round planets rolling by. 
Lingering while the world-stream runs, 
While constellations glow and die 
251 



Ah, Lord ! this nebulous mist of light 
That shines not though it searches far - 
Canst thou not crush its tangled flight, 
Condense its dim glow to a star ? 
Gather its sweeping subtile wings, 
So weary with their wide desire, 
And 'mid thy starry lightenings 
Count one more shining point of fire. 



PROH PUDOR! 

A MYSTIC poet sang of valiant knight 

And fierce adventure on heroic field, 

Where smiling victory ever crowned the wight 

Armed well in holiness, whose shining shield 

His Lord had tempered. As my spirits yield 

To the sweet, noble harmony, 1 know 

The joy of great achievement, seem to wield 

The hero's conquering lance, and strike the blow 

At error's heart which shall uncoil her folds of woe. 

Ah, sad av/akening ! Spenser, if thou wert 
This cycle's epic bard, thy joyous lay 
Would be attuned to mourning. In the stir 
And smoke of life, the singers of to-day 
Seek not to crown the victor, or to lay 
The muses' wreath upon a hero's grave, 
But rearward of the race their stars, astray. 
Illume with ugly truth some straggling slave, 
And leave to darkness and forgetfulness the brave. 
253 



Have we no majesty, no beauty still 

To make the new tales worthy of the old? 

Strong have our deeds been ; let our strength but fill 

Volumes with paeans, that our age, so bold, 

May, like the sun, set in a blaze of gold. 

Kindling the world to glory ! Then at last 

The child of a great morrow shall behold 

Advance the flaming banners of the past 

Across the somber dawn of times undreamed and vast. 



FOR A FRIEND 

Who sent roses on St. Valentine's day. 

Stay, sweet roses, stay but a day, 

Breathe me your souls ere your leaves decay, 

That over the air to my valentine 

I may waft him a perfume as rich as wine. 

That shall charm his desire to some dear repose 

As safe and as sweet as thy heart, white rose ! 



255 



TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. 



In wet wood and miry lane 
Still we pound and pant in vain. 

From the lines ' ' To Will H. Loiv ' 
in " Underwoods." 



Vain the outstretched hands, the feet 
Blistered in the noonday heat ; 
Vain the climbing thought, the brain 
Dull with longing — all are vain. 

Eyes of seer may never see 
Semblance of his ecstasy. 
Poet's arms shall ne'er embrace 
Beauty, whose averted face 
Lures him to a hopeless chase. 

Yet who seeks her shall behold 
Trails of glory, fields of gold, 
Till the splendor of her eyes 
Leads his soul to paradise. 

Ah, pursue her still ! for we, 
Gazing where thou searchest, see 
Crystal flashes of her wings, 
Glimpses of celestial things. 

256 



OUTWARD BOUND. 

Let time and the waves roll by 
To their haven over the sea — 

My bark is my home, say I, 
My love is my life to me. 

My love is my life — ah, woe ! 

Sail on, for the skies are blue. 
Sail on, while the glad winds blow — 

My love as my life is true. 

Worlds lie in yon golden star 

More young than the burning sun. 

I follow my love afar ! 
Nay — death and life are one. 



257 



TO HESTER. 

Thou art so still ! 
My heart's blood freezes 'neath thy frosty will. 
Thine eyes, as constant as the polar star, 

Are colder far. 

Ah, not for thee 
The ardor of the south, where love is free. 
The sun allows thee but a polar ray — 

An arctic day. 

A star must woo 
Far through the soundless heaven's serenest blue — 
Bright Arcturus or dauntless Antares — 

Thy soul to please. 

And such as I, 
Whose love is all my immortality, 
Dream what were his, what bliss of gods above, 

Whom thou shouldst love ! 



258 



EPITAPH ON A DOG. 

He has fled from life, and we 
Soon his followers shall be. 
Even a dog's death may recall 
Death's sure conquest of us all. 

Even a dog! — ah, well may we 
Death's dark hour with calmness see, 
If our lives as his have been 
Loving, faithful, pure, serene. 



259 



A QUESTION. 

Do 1 love her, say you ? Why 
Will you give a stately name 
To a mood that wanders by 
Like a perfume ? Love her ? Ay ! 
Do you blame? 

You have rigid rules. You know 
All the haunts of duty. There, 
Where the armored lilies glow 
None shall see you bending low — 
Ah, beware ! 

Yours the loss ! Look — she doth shine 
Like a chalice crowned with flowers, 
Brimming with ambrosial wine 
Brewed in joy for lips divine — 
Not for ours. 

Yet my soul is mirrored there 

Golden as the blessed sun. 
Shall I quaff the goblet ? Where 
Were my dream then ? 1 forbear. 
Who has won ? 



A SKETCH. 

Alert and over-wise, 
The spirit in her eyes 
Laughs at our weary sighs, 

Our fierce endeavor. 
For, scan it as she may, 
This life is but a play 
That fools us for a day. 

Then stops forever. 

Philosophies she reads, 
And dabbles with the creeds, 
And gloats upon the deeds 

Of saint and sinner. 
So young ! she dares to know 
All that the world may show, 
And never feel a throe 

The heart within her. 

Yet rare she is, and sweet. 
Methinks some seraph fleet 
Her brave adventurous feet 
Is softly guiding ; 



Who o'er her eyehds flings 
Shadows of folded wings, 
The abyss of evil things 
Tenderly hiding. 

Perchance, for pity's sake. 
Some golden morn will break 
And bid the soul awake 

Now idly sleeping. 
Some light of love or truth, 
Some fire of pain or ruth 
Will flash upon her youth. 

In lowlands creeping. 

For her, then, through the blue 
Worlds will be born anew, 
And light divine shine true 

Thick clouds now darken, 
And out of dull disguise 
A spirit will arise 
Fit to explore the skies, 

At heaven's gate harken. 



A DAUGHTER OF THE DAKOTAS. 

Sleep softly, O my mother ! 

The wind has died away 
That stirred the silent waves of mist, 

Where beckoning shadows play. 

Wrapped in her fleecy blanket, 
The moon has gone to rest ; 

The wigwams stand like warrior ghosts 
To guide me on my quest. 

My vows ye would not listen, 
My tears ye would not heed ; 

Sleep on, and let the stars alone 
Behold my valiant deed. 



The night enfolds me softly. 
My steps are light as dew ; 

I do not fear the spirits near, 
My steel is strong and true. 
263 



They sold me to the sorcerer 

And bade my love despair — 
My brave who wears the eagle's plumes 

Above his shining hair. 

t 

I clad me in my splendor, 

My fringed robes and beads, 
And met him by the river brink 

Among the swaying reeds. 

I told him of my dreaming : 
When sleep had made me strong 

The Spirit of the Waters* rose 
And sang a battle-song ; 

And bade my soul have courage. 

And gave me power divine 
To strike the cruel wizard-chief, 

His enemy and mine — 

His foe who dared to wander 

With Thunder through the air, - 

Who scourged the Waters and unloosed 
Fierce lightnings from his lair. 



* In the mythology of the Dakotas the Spirit of the Winds and 
the Spirit of the Waters were perpetually at war, and they engaged 
mortals in their service. 

264 



My troth once more I plighted, 
My vows once more I swore. 

For I will wed my love ; the chief 
We fear shall live no more. 

My brave across the prairies 

1 sent with spear and bow 
Lest they should slay him for the blood 

My knife alone shall know. 

Deep be its stroke ! To-morrow 
They will not braid my hair, 

Nor deck my brow with silver gauds 
Fit for a bride to wear. 

And through the days of mourning 

Glad will I be and free, 
Till in the moon of ripening rice 

My love shall come to me. 



Bravely the night has sped me, 

The curtain waves me in. 
How black he lies, this bridegroom wise, 

All withered with his sin ! 



265 



Great Spirit of the Waters — 

Now clothe mine arm with power ! 

Against thy foe I strike this blow, 
Whose soul is thine this hour. 

Even though the flying tempest 
Should beat his thunder wings, 

I will not fear, for thou art near — 
I hear thy murmurings. 



266 



BY THE DRAGON RIVER. 

Fair wreaths upon cold altars lie. 

Ah, lovely vows are said and sung 
That echoless but rise and die, 

And give the wandering winds no tongue. 

Brave vows ! But yesterday, they say, 
A troop of maidens slender-eyed, 

Pale as their yellow sun's last ray. 

Vowed to live pure, and stainless died. 

Vowed to live pure beneath the moon 
In that sere land where love is naught, 

Where maids with flowery hearts of June 
Like autumn fruits are sold and bought. 

And when one maiden felt her vow 
Falter beneath her sire's command, 

Even with the bride-veil on her brow 
Swift fled she to the virgin band. 

And loyally they twined their souls 

Into a wreath of lilies white, 
To crown the Dragon where it rolls 

Its swift flood through the purple night. 
267 



They sang above the torrent dark 
A low sweet song of joy. Ah me ! 

The restive winds lay still to hark, 
The almond flowers bowed low to see. 



Seeking a world where truth is blest, 
Together, arms and hearts entwined, 

Downward they leaped. God knows the rest. 



268 



A HYMN. 

Thy bounty is a crystal well 

Where all the world may drink. 

We bring bright cups, and can not tell 
What waits us at the brink. 

One quaffs rich draughts of joy; and one, 

Lifting his strong arm high, 
Some dear pledge shouting to the sun, 

Drains sorrow's chalice dry. 

And one, wreathing his bowl for sleep, 
Quaffs years of bitter breath ; 

And one, hope's beaker dipping deep, 
Tastes the wide seas of death. 

Yet crystal clear the waters rise 

From infinite realms of rest ; 
Each cup mirrors the glowing skies, 

And every drop is blest. 



269 



TO MY LEADER. 

The years have surged o'er life's receding shore — 

Soft waves from Time's vast ocean — since with thee 

I walked in joy, since thou revealed to me 

Glories my soul had never known before. 

Once I was blind : o'er dull eyes thou didst pour 

The glowing gift of light, eternal, free. 

Lo ! I was dumb : thou spak'st of liberty 

And straight my mind shattered the chains it wore. 

All that is best in me is thine. Thou art 

My inspiration, as of old the star 

Conjured its worshiper to song. The goal 

Of thy sure hope so lofty is, thy heart 

So pure, I can but love thee from afar — 

My friend, my sister, mother of my soul. 



i8 



TO A CLASS-MATE. 

Dost thou remember days when thou and I 

Walked thoughtful o'er the violet-studded green — 

When oaks waved high above us, and between 

We searched the deep blue beauty of the sky ? 

Life smiled about us then ; with visions high 

Gay we invoked the future. Each was queen 

Of a wide realm of fancies, and the sheen 

Of youth's gold splendor o'er the world did lie. 

Alas ! we meet no more. The gathering years 

Are eloquent with silence, and thy face 

Is but a memory. But the thought of thee, 

Of our vague dreams, our faith that banished fears, 

Is like a benediction^ and the grace 

Of the old blessed time comes back to me. 



TIME'S PERVERSITY. 

O Time, how cunning are thy ways with men! 
Along the blooming road thou liest prone 
in ambush, and when youth dreams all his own 
Thy hoar hand smites, and all the summer then 
Turns ashen, and life's flushing glories wane, 
Shrivel to age before thy gaze of stone. 
Thou art unmerciful, for many a moan 
Thou smotherest with the dust of years of pain, 
But dost not comfort. Me thou mockest. Time. 
Thou wav'st me past the garden-land of song, 
Where I would weave thee garlands all the day, 
And bid'st me pave with stones thy stubborn way, 
Till my sad soul doth oft for blindness long, 
For freedom from a vision too sublime. 



27s 



ON READING A MODERN ROMANCE, 

Across the shadow of these morbid years, 
Whose growth luxuriant, tangled, loads the air 
With perfume and decay ; whose soil doth bear 
Rich rottenness, while rooted beauty rears 
Heaven-seeking boughs through a hot mist of tears 
Oh, through this breathless region let the blast 
From happier centuries sweep pure and fast 
And strong upon our fever and our fears ! 
Hark ! the clear voice of man's imperial youth 
Cries warning to his weary middle age — 
Sings of the days when newly found was truth, 
Nor blasted yet by doubting Time's bleak rage ; 
When men bowed low to nature, holiest shrine 
Of God, and, rising, knew they were divine. 



276 



''THE MONARCH.' 

A portrait of a lion, by Rosa Bonheur, now in the Vanderbilt collection. 

Nay, wouldst thou rule — thou impotent, fond man? 

Lo — I am here. What wilt thou do with me, 

Thou and thy past? — thy vagrant memory ; 

Thy wisdom that would impudently scan 

The universe ; thy hope, that longs to span 

The unborn centuries, that dares decree 

Laws for the Infinite ! Ah, hush thy plea, 

For 1 am here. Obliterate thy plan. 

The tassel dangling from the throne of Truth 

Is all that thou canst reach — why wilt thou climb? 

Why wilt thou spend thy soul, and waste thy youth 

In passionate consciousness ? Ah ! fool sublime ! 

Wisdom and power are mine, the eternal Now 

Am I. Thou puny thinker, what art thou ? 



277 



AN INVOCATION TO HEALTH. 

For one seeking her in the Adirondacks. 

Come, spirit of life ! Far in the blue serene, 

Where spent desire sleepeth in deeps of light, 

Why dost thou linger still ? The noiseless night, 

The dying year, the desolate soft sheen 

Of moonlit snows wrapping the world and e'en 

The winds in robes of silence, and the might 

Of sleeping pulses prisoned — all invite 

The swift thrill of thy breath, for thou art queen. 

Come to thy votary, that not in vain 

He climb the trackless reaches of the snow 

In search of thee. Pour thine ethereal wine 

Through all his weariness, till mocking pain 

Flee like a phantom, that his soul may know 

Freedom to wander far in fields divine ! 



278 



TO MRS. YALE. 

Friend, let me wait still longer at thy feet 
Thanking thee silently for perfect things: 
For antique doors flung open, for the wings 
Of orioles in the fruit-trees, for the seat 
By the broad hearth, sacred with memories sweet ; 
For portraits of dead youth, whose beauty clings 
Still to loved walls ; for high imaginings 
Won from old songs where gods and mortals meet. 
But most for thee let me thank God and thee, 
Whom time delights to honor, whose long youth 
Feels not the snowy fall of wintry years. 
Blest as yon mighty elm, of gifts as free, 
Thy soul strives ever nearer to the truth. 
Ever more tenderly earth's voices hears. 

Deerfield, July the third, 1891. 



279 



TO MY SISTER. 

From over the Sea. 

I FEEL thy hand upon my heart, I see 

Thy white brow bending softly over mine. 

Thy voice is in mine ear, thy deep eyes shine 

Like stars above me. Thou hast followed me, 

For spirit and desire alike are free. 

The invulnerable ocean doth entwine 

Its strong white arms about my love and thine. 

Guarding them safely for eternity. 

Seas can not part us, nor the soundless deep 

Where Time casts down the treasures of the earth 

The perishable baubles we adore. 

Our souls shall wake from this abyss of sleep. 

To feel the rapture of a strange new birth, 

Walk hand in hand with Truth forevermore. 



280 



RED CLOVER. 

Call me new-born thy worshiper, sweet flower, 
Soft laughter of the meadows ! 1 have seen 
Thy pink spheres shake away the dewy screen 
From night's caress to greet the dawn's glad hour. 
I feel the rich weight of thy blossoms cower, 
When wild winds sweep across the wastes of green. 
Startling the bees, who, restful wings a-sheen, 
Steal thy sweet riches for their queen's bright dower. 
Thou seem'st to all pure things allied, and so 
Thy blossoms touched no stranger when they lay 
So proudly 'neath that rose-tipped chin of hers. 
For she, though bred in cities, yet doth know 
The finer thoughts of nature. Her soul stirs 
To greet thee as thine own to greet the day. 



TO A BEAUTIFUL LADY. 

Whenas my soul lies brimming like a well 

And sweetest thoughts rise bubbling to the brink ; 

When floating flowers upon my fancy dwell 

And the blue sky deep in mine heart doth sink 

Full-mirrored ; when swift joys alight and drink 

Supernal draughts, till, burdened like a bell, 

They cleave the hush with song, and dare not shrink 

From sunward flights to glory's citadel : 

Then do I think on thee, and hark to hear 

A choir of seraphs striking harps divine ; 

For thou art pure as waters crystal-clear. 

Lovely as lilies, as soft rains benign. 

Of God's high purposes and life's deep cheer 

Thy soul the proof is, and thy face the sign. 



TO W. S. M. 

With a copy of Shelley. 

Behold, I send thee to the heights of song, 
My brother ! Let thine eyes awake as clear 
As morning dew, within whose glowing sphere 
Is mirrored half a world ; and listen long, 
Till in thine ears, famished to keenness, throng 
The bugles of the soul — till far and near 
Silence grows populous, and wind and mere 
Are phantom-choked with voices. Then be strong- 
Then halt not till thou seest the beacons flare 
Souls mad for truth have lit from peak to peak. 
Haste on to breathe the intoxicating air — 
Wine to the brave and poison to the weak — 
Far in the blue where angels' feet have trod. 
Where earth is one with heaven, and man with God. 



283 



I 



BY LAKE MICHIGAN. 

Blue as eternity, bright as God's smile, 
Pure as tile folded wings of seraphim, ^ 

Thy waters flow this morning at the rim 
Of paradise. Full many a mile on mile 
Some golden craft might bear me to the isle 
Where solemn Sappho sings her sacred hymn, 
Where love is ever young, eyes never dim, 
And truth a shining splendor all the while. 
Surely my soul might sail into thy blue. 
And be so purged of earthly dross and stain 
That one I loved would take the form. I knew. 
And speak to me and clasp my hand again, 
Stooping with winged throngs for retinue 
From the wide heaven where he hath learned 
to reign. 



284 



ENVOI 



ENVOI. 

On reading Longfellow's lines "The Arrow and the Song." 

Although my arrow miss its goal, 
And all my song be lost in air, 

Yet I have aimed the shaft ; my soul 
Has known of song the sweet despair. 

What though amid the choral throng 
Who feel the lightning of thy breath, 

Bright Muse, and, sowing earth with song, 
Pass on to fame through gates of death - 

I cannot stand, sun-crowned, on high ! 

Yet at the mountain's shadowy base 
At times may glories daze mine eye, 

Far-away glimpses of thy face. 

Ah ! then, when all my thought is free 
From care, that now the vision blurs, 

Gladness my soul shall know, to be 
Even least among thy worshipers. 



287 



Here ends this book, 

'' Valeria and Other Poems," 

IVhich was imprinted in the year of our Lord 

MDCCCXCI, 

At the printing house of the De Vinne Press, 

in Lafayette Place, in the 

City of New -York, 

by 










^^''-'■Ift^M 



liliiiSir ' 

015 973 491 2 4»: 







